^fon^sy^- 


AETEMUS    WAKD 

HIS    WORKS,    COMPLETE. 

[Four  Volumes  in  One.] 

WITH  FIFTY  ILLUSTRATIONS, 


A    BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH 

BY 

MELVILLE    D.    LANDON, 

["ELI  PERKINS.") 


NEW    YORK: 

G.  W.  Carleton  6?  Co.,  Publishers. 

LONDON:    J.   C.   HOTTEN. 
M.DCCC.LXXV. 


Entered  according  to  Act"  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1875,  by 

G.   W.   CAELETON  &  CO., 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


JOHN  F.  TROW  &  SON,  PRINTERS, 
105-213  EAST  X2TK  ST.,  NEW  YORK. 


PREFACE. 


AKTEMUS  WAKD  gave  to  the  world,  through  his  Publisher,  G.  W. 
Carleton,  four  humorous  volumes:  — 

ARTEMUS  WARD  ;  His  BOOK.  Issued,  May  17,  1862. 

ARTEMUS  WARD;%IS  TRAVELS.  "      Sept.  23,  1865. 

ARTEMUS  WARD  ;  IN  LONDON.  "     July  13,  1867. 

ARTEMUS  WARD  ;  His  PANORAMA.  "     June  26,  1869. 

Besides  these  works,  Art  emus  left  unpublished,  scattered  manuscripts 
for  another  volume,  which  was  to  have  been  entitled  "Essays  and 
Sketches." 

Throughout  these  five  volumes  —  more  than  fifteen  hundred  pages  of 
droll  sayings  —  an  attempt  has  been  made  to  preserve  the  author's  wit- 
tiest things;  to  re-arrange  and  give  them  all  to  the  public  and  to  poster- 
ity hi  one  convenient  volume  —  a  handy  compendium  of  the  best 
things  which  Artemus  Ward  ever  said  in  lectures,  or  published  in  the 
Plaindealer,  Vanity  Fair,  London  Punch,  and  in  the  four  books  above 
mentioned. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH,  BY  MELVILLE  D.  LANDOX      .  11 
PART  I. 

ESSAYS,    SKETCHES,    AND  LETTERS. 

Mr.  "Ward's  first  Business  Letter 25 

On  "Forts" 26 

The  Shakers 28 

High-handed  Outrage  at  Utica 34 

Atlantic  Cable  Celebration  at  Baldinsville     ....  35 

Among  the  Spirits 38 

On  the  Wing 41 

The  Octoroon 43 

Oberlin .47 

The  Showman's  Courtship 49 

The  Crisis 52 

Among  the  "  Free  Lovers " 57 

Wax  Figures  vs.  Shakspeare 55 

A  Visit  to  Brigham  Young 59 

The  Press 63 

Edwin  Forrest  as  Othello 64 

The  Show  Business  and  Popular  Lectures      ....  67 

Woman's  Rights 68 

The  Prince  of  Wales              70 

Ossawatornie  Brown 74 

Joy  in  the  House  of  Ward 77 

Boston.     (A.  Ward  to  his  Wife.) 79 

How  "Old  Abe "  received  the  News  of  his  Nomination        .  84 

Interview  with  President  Lincoln 85 

(vii) 


viii  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Interview  with  Prince  Napoleon  .....        90 

Agriculture.       .        .        .        .        .        .        .  •  94 

Busts     ....        * .99 

A  Hard  Case 100 

Affairs  around  the  Village  Green 101 


PAKT  II. 

WAR. 

The  Show  is  Confiscated 107 

Thrilling  Scenes  in  Dixie 112 

Fourth  of  July  Oration  .        .         .         .         •        .  116 

War  Fever  in  Baldinsville 119 

A  War  Meeting 123 

The  Draft  in  Baldinsville    .        .        .         .         .         .         . ..'•;  127 

Surrender  of  Cornwallis 133 

Things  in  New  York 137 

Canada 140 

The  Noble  Red  Man .  144 

Artemus  Ward  in  Richmond 145 

Artemus  Ward  to  the  Prince  of  Wales  150 


PART  III. 

STORIES  AND  ROMANCES. 

Moses  the  Sassy ;  or,  The  Disguised  Duke       .        .        .  157 

Marion :  a  Romance  of  the  French  School           .        .  .         161 

William  Barker,  the  Young  Patriot        ....  163 

The  Conscript.     A  Romance 164 

Only  a  Mechanic.     A  Romance         .         .         .         .        „.        133 

Roberto  the  Rover:  a  Tale  of  Sea  and  Shore       .  169 

Red  Hand:  a  Talc  of  Revenge          ...  173 

Pyrotechny:  a  Romance  after  the  French     .      ??       *  .-     177 

A  Mormon  Romance  —  Reginald  Gloverson       .'  183 


CONTENTS.  ix 

PART  IV. 

TO  CALIFORNIA  AND  RETURN.  pAQE 

On  th3  Steamer,  189;  The  Isthmus,  190;  Mexico,  193;  Cali- 
fornia, 195;  Washoe,  198;  Mr.  Pepper,  200;  Horace  Gree- 
ley's  Ride  to  Placerville,  201;  To  Reese  River,  205;  Great 
Salt  Lake  City,  208;  The  Mountain  Fever,  210;  I  am  Here, 
212;  Brigham  Young,  212;  Hurrah  for  the  Road!  215; 
Very  much  Married  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  219 

PART  V. 

THE   LONDON   PUNCH   LETTERS. 

1.  Arrival  in  London     ........  223 

2.  Personal  Recollections 227 

3.  The  Green  Lion  and  Oliver  Cromwell      ....  231 

4.  At  the  Tomb  of  Shakspeare          ......  236 

5.  Introduction  to  the  Club 24(1 

6.  The  Tower  of  London 245 

7.  Science  and  Natural  History 249 

8.  A  Visit  to  the  British  Museum      .         .  254 


PART  VI. 

ARTEMUS  WARD'S  PANORAMA. 

Prefatory  Note  by  Melville  D.  Land  on     ....  259 

The  Egyptian  Hall  Lecture 262 

Programme  of  the  Egyptian  Hall  Lecture         .         .         .  299 

Programme  of  the  Dodworth  Hall  Lecture  .         .         .  305 


PART  VII. 

MISCELLANEOUS. 

Cruise  of  the  Polly  Ann         .         .        .        .        .         .         .  313 

Betsy-Jain  Re-orgunized 315 

A.  Ward's  Autobiography     .         .         .         .         .         .         .  316 

The  Serenade  ........  320 

O'Bourcy's  "  Arrah-na-Pogue"      .         .         .         .         .         .  322 

Artemus  among  the  Fenians      ......  327 

Artemus  "Ward  in  Washington      ......  333 

Scenes  Outside  the  Fair  Grounds 338 

The  Negro  Question 341 

Artemus  on  Health 344 

A  Fragment— At  North  Berwick 346 

1* 


LIST  OF  FULL-PAGE  ILLUSTRATIONS 


PA  01 

Portrait  of  Charles  F.  Browne  (Artenms  Ward)       .         Frontispiece 

Arteinus  rescued  from  the  "  Kanawl  "  27 

Art  emus  among  the  Shakers 32 

A.  "Ward's  speech  on  the  Crisis  &  Secession        ...  52 

Artemus  with  the  Mormon  Women 62 

Artemus  listening  to  Forrest's  Othello       ....  65 

Mrs.  Ward's  Baby.     "Twins,  mam,"  sez  I,  " Twins !  "        .  76 

Interview  with  President  Lincoln 86 

Artemus  as  a  Farmer 95 

Artemus  mobbed  and  his  Show  confiscated        .         .         .  109 

Mr.  Ward  delivering  his  great  Union  Speech        .         .         .  116 

Betsy  Jane  calls  on  the  Editor  of  "The  Bugle"         .         .  123 

Artemus  and  the  Artist  with  long  hair          .         .         .         .  •  127 

"  Lo  !  the  poor  Indian  and  the  pretty  Waiter  Girl "           .  141 

Hamlet  to  slow  Music 152 

Moses  the  Sassy,  the  Disguised  Duke         .         .        .        .  160 

Horace  Greeley  in  the  Overland  Stage            ....  204 

The  Indian  Agriculturist 219 

Artemus  Ward  introduced  to  London  Punch        .         .         .  223 

"  Has  my  clothing  a  Welchy  appearance  ?  "       .         .         .  230 

Artemus  Ward  as  "  Capting  of  the  Home  Guards  "       .         .  233 

Arteinus  at  the  Tomb  of  Shakspeare          ....  238 

"  Young  Woman,  I'm  not  your  Sailor  Boy "         .         .         .  244 

Natural  History  —  sudden  Playfulness  of  the  Bear            .  252 


CHAS.  FARRAR  BROWNE, 


"ARTEMTJS   WARD." 


A  BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH,   BY  MELVILLE  D.   LANDON. 


CHARLES  FARRAR  BROWNE,  better  known  to  the  world  as 
"Artemus  "Ward,"  was  born  at  Waterford,  Oxford  County, 
Maine,  on  the  twenty-sixth  of  April,  1834,  and  died  of  con- 
sumption at  Southampton,  England,  on  Wednesday,  the  sixth  of 
March,  1867. 

His  father,  Levi  Browne,  was  a  land  surveyor,  and  Justice  of 
the  Peace.  His  mother,  Caroline  E.  Brown,  is  still  living,  and 
is  a  descendant  from  Puritan  stock. 

Mr.  Browne's  business  manager,  Mr.  Kingston,  once  asked 
him  about  his  Puritanic  origin,  when  he  replied  :  "  1  think  we 
came  from  Jerusalem,  for  my  father's  name  was  Levi  and  we 
had  a  Moses  and  a  Nathan  in  the  family,  but  my  poor  brother's 
name  was  Cyrus ;  so,  perhaps,  that  makes  us  Persians." 

Charles  was  partially  educated  at  the  Waterford  school,  when 
family  circumstances  induced  his  parents  to  apprentice  him  to 
learn  the  rudiments  of  printing  in  the  office  of  the  Skowlie- 
gan  Clarion,  published  some  miles  to  the  north  of  his  native 
village.  Here  he  passed  through  the  dreadful  ordeal  to  which 


12  BIOGRAPHY  OF  CHARLES  F.  BROWNE. 

a  printer's  "devil"  is  generally  subjected.  He  always  kept 
his  temper  ;  and  his  eccentric  boy  jokes  are  even  now  told  by 
the  residents  of  Skowhegan. 

In  the  spring,  after  his  fifteenth  birthday,  Charles  Browne 
bade  farewell  to  the  SkowJiegan  Clarion;  and  we  next  hear 
of  him  in,  the  office  of  the  Carpet-Bag,  edited  by  B.  P. 
Shillaber  ("  Mrs.  Partington").  Lean,  lank,  but  strangely 
appreciative,  young  Browne  used  to  "  set  up  "  articles  from  the 
pens  of  Charles  G.  Halpine  ("  Miles  O'Reilly  ")  and  John  G. 
Saxe,  the  poet.  Here  he  wrote  his  first  contribution  in  a  dis- 
guised hand,  slyly  put  it  into  the  editorial  box,  and  the  next 
day  disguised  his  pleasure  while  setting  it  up  himself.  The 
article  was  a  description  of  a  Fourth  of  July  celebration  in 
Skowhegan.  The  spectacle  of  the  day  was  a  representation  of 
the  battle  of  Yorktown,  with  G.  Washington  and  General 
Horace  Cornwallis  in  character.  The  article  pleased  Mr. 
Shillaber,  and  Mr.  Browne,  afterwards  speaking  of  it,  said  :  "  I 
went  to  the  theatre  that  evening,  had  a  good  time  of  it,  and 
thought  I  was  the  greatest  man  in  Boston." 

While  engaged  on  the  Carpet-Bag ',  the  subject  of  our  sketch 
closely  studied  the  theatre  and  courted  the  society  of  ac- 
tors and  actresses.  It  was  in  this  way  that  he  gained  that 
correct  and  valuable  knowledge  of  the  texts  and  characters  of 
the  drama,  which  enabled  him  in  after  years  to  burlesque  them 
so  successfully.  The  humorous  writings  of  Seba  Smith  were 
his  models,  and  the  oddities  of  "  John  Phoenix  "  were  his  es- 
pecial admiration. 

Being  of  a  roving  temper  Charles  Browne  soon  left  Boston, 
and,  after  travelling  as  a  journeyman  printer  over  much  of  New 
York  and  Massachusetts,  he  turned  up  in  the  town  of  Tiffin, 
Seneca  County,  Ohio,  where  he  became  reporter  and  compositor 
at  four  dollars  per  week.  After  making  many  friends  among 
the  good  citizens  of  Tiffin,  by  whom  he  is  remembered  as  a 
patron  of  side  shows  and  travelling  circuses,  our  hero  suddenly 
set  out  for  Toledo,  on  the  lake,  where  he  immediately  made  a 
reputation  as  a  writer  of  sarcastic  paragraphs  in  the  columns  of 


BIOGRAPHY  OF  CHARLES  F.  BROWS  W.  13 

the  Toledo  Commercial.  He  waged  a  vigorous  newspaper 
war  with  the  reporters  of  the  Toledo  Blade,  but  while  the 
Diode  indulged  in  violent  vituperation,  "  Artemus  "  was  good- 
natured  and  full  of  humor.  His  column  soon  gained  a  local 
fame  and  everybody  read  it.  His  fame  even  travelled  away 
to  Cleveland,  where,  in  1858,  when  Mr.  Browne  was  twenty- 
four  years  of  age,  Mr.  J.  "W.  Gray  of  the  Cleveland  Plain- 
dealer  secured  him  as  local  reporter,  at  a  salary  of  twelve  dol- 
lars per  week.  Here  his  reputation  first  began  to  assume  a 
national  character,  and  it  was  here  that  they  called  him  a 
"  fool "  when  he  mentioned  the  idea  of  taking  the  field  as  a 
lecturer.  Speaking  of  this  circumstance  while  travelling  down 
the  Mississippi  with  the  writer,  in  1865,  Mr.  Browne  musingly 
repeated  this  colloquy: 

WISE  MAN  :  —  "  Ah !  you  poor  foolish  little  girl  —  here  is  a  dollar  for 
you." 

FOOLISH  LITTLE  GIKL:  —  "Thank  you,  sir;  but  I  have  a  sister 
at  home  as  foolish  as  I  am  :  can't  you  give  me  a  dollar  for  her  ?  " 

Charles  Browne  was  not  successful  as  a  news  reporter,  lack- 
ing enterprise  and  energy,  but  his  success  lay  in  writing  up  in 
a  burlesque  manner  well-known  public  affairs  like  prize-fights, 
races,  spiritual  meetings,  and  political  gatherings.  His  depart- 
ment became  wonderfully  humorous,  and  was  always  a  favorite 
with  readers  whether  there  was  any  news  in  it  or  not.  Some- 
times he  would  have  a  whole  column  of  letters  from  young 
ladies  in  reply  to  a  fancied  matrimonial  advertisement,  and 
then  he  would  have  a  column  of  answers  to  general  correspond- 
ents like  this :  — 

YE  KIT  AS. —  Many  make  the  same  error.  Mr.  Key,  who  wrote  the 
"  Star  Spangled  Banner,"  is  not  the  author  of  Hamlet,  a  tragedy. 
He  wrote  the  banner  business,  and  assisted  in  ki  The  Female  Pirate," 
but  did  not  icritc  Hamlet.  Hamlet  was  written  by  a  talented  but  un- 
scrupulous man  naraed  Macbeth,  afterwards  tried  and  executed  for 
"  murdering  sleep." 

YOUNG  CLERGYMAN. — Two  pints  of  mm,  two  quarts  of  hot  water, 
tea-cup  of  sugar,  and  a  lemon ;  grate  in  nutmeg,  stir  thoroughly  and 
drink  while  hot. 


14  BIOGRAPHY  OF  CHARLES  F.   BROWNE. 

It  was  during  his  engagement  on  the  Plaindealer  that  ha 
wrote,  dating  from  Indiana,  his  first  communication,  —  the  first 
published  letter  following  this  sketch,  signed  "  Artemus  Ward," 
a  sobriquet  purely  incidental,  but  borne  with  the  "u"  changed 
to  an  "  a  "  by  an  American  revolutionary  general.  It  wa~s  here 
that  Mr.  Browne  first  became,  in  words,  the  possessor  of  a 
moral  show  "  consisting  of  three  moral  bares,  a  kangaroo  (a 
amoftzing  little  rascal ;  'twould  make  you  larf  yourself  to  death 
to  see  the  little  kuss  jump  and  squeal),  wax  figures  of  G.  Wash- 
ington, &c.  &c."  Hundreds  of  newspapers  copied  this  letter, 
and  Charles  Browne  awoke  one  morning  to  find  himself  famous. 

In  the  Plaindealer  office,  his  companion  George  Hoyt  writes : 
"  His  desk  was  a  rickety  table  which  had  been  whittled  and 
gashed  until  it  looked  as  if  it  had  been  the  victim  of  lightning. 
His  chair  was  a  fit  companion  thereto,  —  a  wabbling,  unsteady 
affair,  sometimes  with  four  and  sometimes  with  three  legs. 
But  Browne  saw  neither  the  table,  nor  the  chair,  nor  any  person 
who  might  be  near,  nothing,  in  fact,  but  the  funny  pictures 
which  were  tumbling  out  of  his  brain.  When  writing,  his 
gaunt  form  looked  ridiculous  enough.  One  leg  hung  over 
the  arm  of  his  chair  like  a  great  hook,  while  he  would  write 
away,  sometimes  laughing  to  himself,  and  then  slapping  the 
table  in  the  excess  of  his  mirth." 

While  in  the  office  of  the  Plaindealer  Mr.  Browne  first  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  becoming  a  lecturer.  In  attending  the  vari- 
ous minstrel  shows  and  circuses  which  came  to  the  city,  he 
would  frequently  hear  repeated  some  story  of  his  own  which 
the  audience  would  receive  with  hilarity.  His  best  witticisms 
came  back  to  him  from  the  lips  of  another  who  made  a  living 
by  quoting  a  stolen  jest.  Then  the  thought  came  to  him  to  en- 
ter the  lecture  field  himself,  and  become  the  utterer  of  his  own 
witticisms  —  the  mouth-piece  of  his  own  jests. 

On  the  10th  of  November,  1860,  Charles  Browne,  whose 
fame,  travelling  in  his  letters  from  Boston  to  San  Francisco, 
had  now  become  national,  grasped  the  hands  of  his  hundreds  of 
New  York  admirers.  Cleveland  had  throned  him  the  monarch 


BIOGRAPHY  OF  CHARLES  F.  BROWNE.  15 

of  mirth,  and  a  thousand  hearts  paid  him  tributes  of  adulation 
as  he  closed  his  connection  with  the  Cleveland  Press. 

Arriving  in  the  Empire  City,  Mr.  Browne  soon  opened  an 
engagement  with  Vanity  Fair,  a  humorous  paper  after  the 
manner  of  London  Punch,  and  ere  long  he  succeeded  Mr. 
Charles  G.  Leland  as  editor.  Mr.  Charles  Dawson  Shanly  says : 
"  After  Artemus  Ward  became  sole  editor,  a  position  which  he 
held  for  a  brief  period,  many  of  his  best  contributions  were 
given  to  the  public ;  and,  whatever  there  was  of  merit  in  the 
columns  of  Vanity  Fair  from  the  time  he  assumed  the  editorial 
charge,  emanated  from  his  pen."  Mr.  Browne  himself  wrote 
to  a  friend :  "  Comic  copy  is  what  they  wanted  for  Vanity 
Fair.  I  wrote  some  and  it  killed  it.  The  poor  paper  got  to 
be  a  conundrum,  and  so  I  gave  it  up." 

The  idea  of  entering  the  field  as  a  lecturer  now  seized  Mr. 
Browne  stronger  than  ever.  Tired  of  the  pen,  he  resolved  on 
trying  the  platform.  His  Bohemian  friends  agreed  that  his  fame 
and  fortune  would  be  made  before  intelligent  audiences.  He 
resolved  to  try  it.  What  should  be  the  subject  of  my  lecture? 
How  shall  I  treat  the  subject?  These  questions  caused  Mr. 
Browne  grave  speculations.  Among  other  schemes,  he  thought 
of  a  string  of  jests  combined  with  a  stream  of  satire,  the  whole 
being  unconnected  — a  burlesque  upon  a  lecture.  The  subject, 
—  that  was  a  hard  question.  First  he  thought  of  calling  it 
MY  SEVEN  GRANDMOTHERS,  but  he  finally  adopted  the  name 
of  BABES  IN  THE  WOODS,  and  with  this  subject  Charles 
Browne  was  introduced  to  a  metropolitan  audience,  on  the 
evening  of  December  23d,  1861.  The  place  was  Clinton  Hall, 
which  stood  on  the  site  of  the  old  Astor  Place  Opera  House, 
where  years  ago  occurred  the  Macready  riot,  and  where  now  is 
the  Mercantile  Library.  Previous  to  this  introduction,  Mr. 
Frank  Wood  accompanied  him  to  the  suburban  town  of  Nor- 
wich, Connecticut,  where  he  first  delivered  his  lecture  and 
watched  the  result.  The  audience  were  delighted,  and  Mr. 
Browne  received  an  ovation.  Previous  to  his  Clinton  Hall  ap- 
pearance the  city  was  flooded  with  funny  placards  reading  — 


1C  BIOGRAPHY  OF  CHARLES  F.  BROWNE. 


WA.RD 

WILL 

SPEAK    A    PIECE. 


Owing  to  a  great  storm,  only  a  small  audience  braved  the 
elements,  and  the  Clinton  Hall  lecture  was  not  a  financial  suc- 
cess. It  consisted  of  a  wandering  batch  of  comicalities,  touch- 
ing upon  everything  except  "  The  Babes."  Indeed  it  was  better 
described  by  the  lecturer  in  London,  when  he  said,  "  One  of  the 
features  of  my  entertainment  is,  that  it  contains  so  many 
things  that  don't  have  anything  to  do  with  it." 

In  the  middle  of  his  lecture,  the  speaker  would  hesitate, 
stop,  and  say  :  "  Owing  to  a  slight  indisposition  we  will  now 
have  an  intermission  of  fifteen  minutes."  The  audience  looked 
in  utter  dismay  at  the  idea  of  staring  at  vacancy  for  a  quarter  of 
an  hour,  when,  rubbing  his  hands,  the  lecturer  would  continue  : 
"  but,  ah  —  during  the  intermission  I  will  go  on  with  my  lec- 
ture!" 


Mr.  Browne's  first  volume,  entitled  "  Artemus  Ward ;  His 
Book,"  was  published  in  New*  York,  May  17th,  1862.  The 
volume  was  everywhere  hailed  with  enthusiasm,  and  over  forty 
thousand  copies  were  sold.  *  Great  success  also  attended  the  sale 
of  his  three  other  volumes  published  in  '65,  '67,  and  '69. 

Mr.  Browne's  next  lecture  was  entitled  "  Sixty  Minutes  in 
Africa,"  and  was  delivered  in  Musical  Fund  Hall,  Philadelphia. 
Behind  him  hung  a  large  map  of  Africa,  "  which  region,"  said 
Artemus,  "  abounds  in  various  natural  productions,  such  as 
reptiles  and  flowers.  It  produces  the  red  rose,  the  white  rose, 
and  the  neg-roes.  In  the  middle  of  the  continent  is  what  is 
called  a  *  howling  wilderness,'  but,  for  my  part,  I  have  never 
heard  it  howl,  nor  met  with  any  one  who  has." 


BIOGRAPHY  OF  CHARLES  F.  BROWNE.  17 

After  Mr.  Browne  had  created  immense  enthusiasm  for  his 
lectures  and  books  in  the  Eastern  States,  which  filled  his  pock- 
ets with  a  handsome  exchequer,  he  started,  October  3d,  1863, 
for  California,  a  faithful  account  of  which  trip  is  given  by  him- 
self in  this  book.  Previous  to  starting,  he  received  a  telegram 
from  Thomas  Maguire,  of  the  San  Francisco  Opera  House,  in- 
quiring "  what  he  would  take  for  forty  nights  in  California" 
Mr.  Browne  immediately  telegraphed  back,  — 

"  Brandy  and  water. 

A.  WARD." 

and,  though  Maguire  was  sorely  puzzled  at  the  contents  of  the 
dispatch,  the  Press  got  hold  of  it,  and  it  went  through  Califor- 
nia as  a  capital  joke. 

Mr.  Browne  first  lectured  in  San  Francisco  on  "The  Babes 
in  the  Woods,"  November  13th,  1863,  at  Pratt's  Hall.  T. 
Starr  King  took  a  deep  interest  in  him,  occupying  the  rostrum, 
and  his  general  reception  in  San  Francisco  was  warm. 

Returning  overland,  through  Salt  Lake  to  the  States,  in  the 
fall  of  1864,  Mr.  Browne  lectured  again  in  New  York,  this 
time  on  the  "  Mormons,"  to  immense  audiences,  and  in  the 
spring  of  1865  he  commenced  his  tour  through  the  country, 
everywhere  drawing  enthusiastic  audiences  both  North  and 
South. 

It  was  while  on  this  tour  that  the  writer  of  this  sketch  again 
spent  some  time  with  him.  "We  met  at  Memphis  and  travelled 
down  the  Mississippi  together.  At  Lake  Providence  the  In- 
diana rounded  up  to  our  landing,  and  Mr.  Browne  accompanied 
the  writer  to  his  plantation,  where  he  spent  several  days,  ming- 
ling in  seeming  infinite  delight  with  the  negroes.  For  them  he 
showed  great  fondness,  and  they  used  to  stand  around  him  in 
crowds  listening  to  his  seemingly  serious  advice.  We  could 
not  prevail  upon  him  to  hunt  or  to  join  in  any  of  the  equestrian 
amusements  with  the  neighboring  planters,  but  a  quiet  fascina- 


18  BIOGRAPHY  OF  CHARLES  F.  BROWNE. 

tion  drew  him  to  the  negroes.  Strolling  through  the  "quar- 
ters," his  grave  words,  too  deep  with  humor  for  darkey  com- 
prehension, gained  their  entire  confidence.  One  day  he  called 
up  Uncle  Jeff.,  an  Uncle-Tom-like  patriarch,  and  commenced  in 
his  usual  vein:  "Now,  Uncle  Jefferson,"  he  said,  "why  do 
you  thus  pursue  the  habits  of  industry  ?  This  course  of  life  is 

-wrong all  wrong  —  all  a  base  habit,  Uncle  Jefferson.     Now 

try  and  break  it  off.  Look  at  me,  —  look  at  Mr.  Landon, 
the  chivalric  young  Southern  plantist  from  New  York,  he  toils 
not,  neither  does  he  spin;  he  pursues  a  career  of  contented 
idleness.  If  you  only  thought  so,  Jefferson,  you  could  live  for 
months  without  performing  any  kind  of  labor,  and  at  the  expi- 
ration of  that  time  feel  fresh  and  vigorous  enough  to  commence 
it  again.  Idleness  refreshes  the  physical  organization  —  it  is  a 
sweet  boon  !  Strike  at  the  roots  of  the  destroying  habit  to-day, 
Jefferson.  It  tires  you  out ;  resolve  to  be  idle ;  no  one  should 
labor ;  lie  should  hire  others  to  do  it  for  him ;  "  and  then  he 
would  fix  his  mournful  eyes  on  Jeff,  and  hand  him  a  dollar, 
•while  the  eyes  of  the  wonder?struck  darkey  would  gaze  in  mute 
admiration  upon  the  good  and  wise  originator  of  the  only  the- 
ory which  the  darkey  mind  could  appreciate.  As  Jeff,  went 
away  to  tell  the  wonderful  story  to  his  companions,  and  backed 
it  with  the  dollar  as  material  proof,  Artemus  would  cover 
his  eyes,  and  bend  forward  on  his  elbows  in  a  chuckling  laugh. 


"AMONG  THE  MORMONS"  was  delivered  through  the  States, 
everywhere  drawing  immense  crowds.  His  manner  of  deliver- 
ing his  discourse  was  grotesque  and  comical  beyond  description. 
His  quaint  and  sad  style  contributed  more  than  anything  else  to 
render  his  entertainment  exquisitely  funny.  The  programme 
was  exceedingly  droll,  and  the  tickets  of  admission  presented 
the  most  ludicrous  of  ideas.  The  writer  presents  a  fac-simile  oi 
an  admission  ticket  which  was  presented  to  him  in  Natchez  by 
Mr.  Browne :  — 


BIOGRAPHY  OF  CHARLES  F.  BROWNE.  19 


ADMIT   THE  BEARER 

AND  ONE  WIFE. 


W 


A.        ARD. 


In  the  spring  of  1866,  Charles  Browne  first  timidly  thought 
of  going  to  Europe.  Turning  to  Mr.  Kingston  one  day  he 
asked:  "What  sort  of  a  man  is  Albert  Smith?  Do  you 
think  the  Mormons  would  be  as  good  a  subject  to  the  Londoners 
as  Mont  Blanc  was  ?  "  Then  he  said  :  "  I  should  like  to  go  to 
London  and  give  my  lecture  in  the  same  place.  Can't  it  be 
done  ?  " 

Mr.  Browne  sailed  for  England  soon  after,  taking  with  him 
his  Panorama.  The  success  that  awaited  him  could  scarcely  have 
been  anticipated  by  his  most  intimate  friends.  Scholars,  wits, 
poets,  and  novelists  came  to  him  with  extended  hands,  and  his 
stay  in  London  was  one  ovation  to  the  genius  of  American  wit. 
Charles  Reade,  the  novelist,  was  his  warm  friend  and  en- 
thusiastic admirer ;  and  Mr.  Andrew  Haliday  introduced  him 
to  the  "Literary  Club,"  where  he  became  a  great  favorite. 
Mark  Lemon  came  to  him  and  asked  him  to  become  a  con- 
tributor to  JPunch,  which  he  did.  His  Punch  letters  were 
more  remarked  in  literary  circles  than  any  other  current 
matter.  There  was  hardly  a  club-meeting  or  a  dinner  at 
which  they  were  not  discussed.  "  There  was  something  so 
grotesque  in  the  idea,"  said  a  correspondent,  "  of  this  ruthless 
Yankee  poking  among  the  revered  antiquities  of  Britain,  that 
the  beef-eating  British  themselves  could  not  restrain  their 
laughter."  The  story  of  his  Uncle  William  who  u  followed  com- 


20  BIOGRAPHY  OF  CHARLES  F.  BROWNE. 

mercial  pursuits,  glorious  commerce  —  and  sold  soap!"  and  hig 
letters  on  the  Tower  and  "  Chowser,"  were  palpable  hits,  and  it 
was  admitted  that  Punch  had  contained  nothing  better  since 
the  days  of  "  Yellowplush."  This  opinion  was  shared  by 
the  Times,  the  literary  reviews,  and  the  gayest  leaders  of 
society.  The  publishers  of  Punch  posted  up  his  name  in 
large  letters  over  their  shop  in  Fleet  street,  and  Artemus 
delighted  to  point  it  out  to  his  friends.  About  this  time 
Mr.  Browne  wrote  to  his  friend  Jack  Rider,  of  Cleveland : 

"This  is  the  proudest  moment  of  my  life.  To  have  been  as  well 
appreciated  here  as  at  home ;  to  have  written  for  the  oldest  comir 
Journal  in  the  English  language,  received  mention  with  Hood,  with 
Jerrold  and  Hook,  and  to  have  my  picture  and  my  pseudonym  as  com- 
mon in  London  as  in  New  York,  is  enough  for 

"  Yours  truly, 

"A.  WARD." 

England  was  thoroughly  aroused  to  the  merits  of  Artemus 
Ward,  before  he  commenced  his  lectures  at  Egyptian  Hall ; 
and  when,  in  November,  he  finally  appeared,  immense  crowds 
were  compelled  to  turn  away.  At  every  lecture  his  fame  in- 
creased, and  when  sickness  brought  his  brilliant  success  to  an 
end,  a  nation  mourned  his  retirement. 

On  the  evening  of  Friday,  the  seventh  week  of  his  engage- 
ment at  Egyptian  Hall,  Artemus  became  seriously  ill,  an 
apology  was  made  to  a  disappointed  audience,  and  from  that 
time  the  light  of  one  of  the  greatest  wits  of  the  centuries  com- 
menced fading  into  darkness.  The  Press  mourned  his  retire- 
ment, and  a  funeral  pall  fell  over  London.  The  laughing, 
applauding  crowds  were  soon  to  see  his  consumptive  form 
moving  towards  its  narrow  resting-place  in  the  cemetery  at 
Kensal  Green. 

By  medical  advice  Charles  Browne  went  for  a  short  time 
to  the  Island  of  Jersey  —  but  the  breezes  of  Jersey  were  power- 
less. He  wrote  to  London  to  his  nearest  and  dearest  friends 
—  the  members  of  a  literary  club  of  which  he  was  a  member  — 


BIOGRAPHY  OF  CHARLES  F.  BROWNE.  21 

to  complain  that  his  "  loneliness  weighed  on  him."  He  was 
brought  back,  but  could  not  sustain  the  journey  farther  than 
Southampton.  There  the  members  of  the  club  travelled  from 
London  to  see  him  —  two  at  a  time  —  that  he  might  be  less 
lonely. 

His  remains  were  followed  to  the  grave  from  the  rooms  of 
his  friend  Arthur  Sketehley,  by  a  large  number  of  friends  and 
admirers,  the  literati  and  press  of  London  paying  the  last 
tribute  of  respect  to  their  dead  brother.  The  funeral  services 
were  conducted  by  the  Rev.  M.  D.  Conway,  formerly  of  Cin- 
cinnati, and  the  coffin  was  temporarily  placed  in  a  vault,  from 
which  it  was  removed  by  his  American  friends,  and  his  body 
now  sleeps  by  the  side  of  his  father,  Levi  Browne,  in  the  quiet 
cemetery  at  Waterford,  Maine.  Upon  the  coffin  is  the  simple 
inscription : — 


"CHARLES    F.    BROWNE, 

AGED  32    YEARS, 

BETTER  KNOWN  TO  THE  WORLD  AS  '  ARTEMUS  WARD."' 


His  English  executors  were  T.  W.  Robertson,  the  playwright, 
and  his  friend  and  companion,  E.  P.  Kingston.  His  literary 
executors  were  Horace  Greeley  and  Richard  H.  Stoddard.  In 
his  will,  he  bequeathed  among  other  things  a  large  sum  of 
money  to  his  little  valet,  a  bright  little  fellow  ;  though  subse- 
quent denoilments  revealed  the  fact  that  he  left  only  a  six-thou- 
sand-dollar house  in  Yonkers.  There  is  still  some  mystery 
about  his  finances,  which  may  one  day  be  revealed.  It  is 
known  that  he  withdrew  $10,000  from  the  Pacific  Bank  to 
deposit  it  with  a  friend  before  going  to  England ;  besides 
this,  his  London  Punch  letters  paid  a  handsome  profit. 
Among  his  personal  friends  were  George  jtloyt,  the  late  Daniel 
Setchell,  Charles  W.  Coe,  and  Mr.  Mullen,  the  artist,  all  of 
whom  he  used  to  style  "  my  friends  all  the  year  round." 


22  BIOGRAPHY  OF  CHARLES  F.  BROWNE. 

Personally  Charles  Farrar  Browne  was  one  of  the  kindest 
and  most  affectionate  of  men,  and  history  does  not  name  a  man 
who  was  so  universally  beloved  by  all  who  knew  him.  It  was 
remarked,  and  truly,  that  the  death  of  no  literary  character 
since  Washington  Irving  caused  such  general  and  wide-spread 
regret. 

In  stature  he  was  tall  and  slender.  His  nose  was  prominent, 
—  outlined  like  that  of  Sir  Charles  Napier,  or  Mr.  Seward  ;  his 
eyes  brilliant,  small,  and  close  together ;  his  mouth  large,  teeth 
white  and  pearly ;  fingers  long  and  slender ;  hair  soft,  straight, 
and  blonde;  complexion  florid;  mustache  large,  and  his  voice 
soft  and  clear.  In  bearing,  he  moved  like  a  natural-born  gen- 
tleman. In  his  lectures  he  never  smiled — not  even  while  he 
was  giving  iitterance  to  the  most  delicious  absurdities ;  but  all 
the  while  the  jokes  fell  from  his  lips  as  if  he  was  unconscious  of 
their  meaning.  While  writing  his  lectures,  he  would  laugh  and 
chuckle  to  himself  continually. 

There  was  one  peculiarity  about  Charles  Browne  —  he  never 
made  an  enemy.  Other  wits  in  other  times  have  been  famous, 
but  a  satirical  thrust  now  and  then  has  killed  a  friend.  Diog- 
enes was  the  wit  of  Greece,  but  when,  after  holding  up  an 
old  dried  fish  to  draw  away  the  eyes  of  Anaximenes'  audience, 
he  exclaimed  "  See  how  an  old  fish  is  more  interesting  than  An- 
aximenes" he  said  a  funny  thing,  but  he  stabbed  a  friend. 
When  Charles  Lamb,  in  answer  to  the  doting  mother's  question 
as  to  how  he  liked  babies,  replied,  "  b-b-boiled,  madam, 
boiled ! "  that  mother  loved  him  no  more :  and  when  John 
Randolph  said  "  tliank  you  /  "  to  his  constituent  who  kindly 
remarked  that  he  had  the  pleasure  of  passing  his  house,  it  was 
wit  at  the  expense  of  friendship.  The  whole  English  school  of 
wits— with  Douglas  Jerrold,  Hood,  Sheridan,  and  Sidney  Smith, 
indulged  in  repartee.  They  were  parasitic  wits.  And  so 
with  the  Irish,  except  that  an  Irishman  is  generally  so  ridicu- 
lously absurd  in  his  replies  as  to  only  excite  ridicule.  "  Artemus 
Ward  "  made  you  laugh  and  love  him  too. 

The  wit  of  "  Artemus  Ward  "  and  "  Josh  Billings  "  is  distinc- 


BIOGRAPHY  OF  CHARLES  F.  BROWNE.  23 

tively  American.  Lord  Kames,  in  his  "  Elements  of  Criticism," 
makes  no  mention  of  this  species  of  wit,  a  lack  which  the  future 
rhetorician  should  look  to.  We  look  in  vain  for  it  in  the  Eng- 
lish language  of  past  ages,  and  in  other  languages  of  modern 
time.  It  is  the  genus  American.  When  Artemus  says  in 
that  serious  manner,  looking  admiringly  at  his  atrocious  pic- 
tures, —  "I  love  pictures  —  and  I  have  many  of  them  — 
beautiful  photographs  —  of  myself ; "  you  smile  ;  and  when  he  con- 
tinues, "These  pictures  were  painted  by  the  Old  Masters: 
they  painted  these  pictures  and  then  they  —  they  expired ; ''  you 
hardly  know  what  it  is  that  makes  you  laugh  outright ;  and 
when  Josh  Billings  says  in  his  Proverbs,  wiser  than  Solomon's, 
"  you'd  better  not  know  so  mucji,  than  know  so  many  things 
that  ain't  so; " — the  same  vein  is  struck,  but  the  text-books 
fail  to  explain  scientifically  the  cause  of  our  mirth. 

The  wit  of  Charles  Browne  is  of  the  most  exalted  kind.  It 
is  only  scholars  and  those  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the 
subtilty  of  our  language  who  fully  appreciate  it.  His  wit  is 
generally  about  historical  personages  like  Cromwell,  Garrick,  or 
8hakspeare,  or  a  burlesque  on  different  styles  of  writing,  like 
his  French  novel,  when  Mfalutin  phrases  of  tragedy  come 
from  the  clod-hopper  who  —  (t  sells  soap  and  thrice  —  refuses 
a  ducal  coronet." 

Mr.  Browne  mingled  the  eccentric  even  in  his  business  let- 
ters. Once  he  wrote  to  his  Publisher,  Mr.  G.  W.  Carleton, 
who  had  made  some  alterations  in  his  MSS. :  "  The  next  book 
I  write  I'm  going  to  get  you  to  write."  Again  he  wrote 
in  1863 : 

"  DEAR  CARL  :  —  You  and  I  will  get  out  a  book  next  spring,  which 
will  knock  spots  out  of  all  comic  books  in  ancient  or  modern  history. 
And  the  fact  that  you  are  going  to  take  hold  of  it  convinces  me  that 
you  have  one  of  the  most  massive  intellects  of  fhj.s  or  any  other  epoch. 

"  Yours,  my  pretty  gazelle, 
"A.  WARD." 

When  Charles  F.  Browne  died,  he  did  not  belong  to  America; 
for,  as  with  Irving  and  Dickens,  the  English  language  claimed 


24  BIOGRAPHY  OF  CHARLES  F.  BROWNE. 

him.  Greece  alone  did  not  suffer  when  the  current  of  Diog- 
enes' wit  flowed  on  to  death.  Spain  alone  did  not  mourn  when 
Cervantes,  dying,  left  Don  Quixote,  the  "knight  of  la 
Mancha."  When  Charles  Lamb  ceased  to  tune  the  great 
heart  of  humanity  to  joy  and  gladness,  his  funeral  was  in 
every  English  and  American  household ;  and  when  Charles 
Browne  took  up  his  silent  resting-place  in  the  sombre  shades 
of  Kensal  Green,  jesting  ceased,  and  one  great  Anglo-American 
heart, 

Like  a  muffled  drnm  went  beating 
Funeral  marches  to  his  grave. 

MELVILLE  D.  LANDON. 


ARTEMUS    WARD 


I. 


ESSAYS,     SKETCHES,      AND     LETTEKS. 


ONE  OF  MR.  WARD'S  BUSINESS  LETTERS. 

To  the  Editor  of  the 

Sm  —  I'm  movin  along  —  slowly  along  —  down  tords  your 
place.  I  want  you  should  rite  me  a  letter,  sayin  how  is  the 
show  bizniss  in  your  place.  My  show  at  present  consists  of 
three  moral  Bares,  a  Kangaroo  (a  amoozin  little  Raskal  — 
t'would  make  you  larf  yerself  to  deth  to  see  the  little  cuss 
jump  up  and  squeal)  wax  figgers  of  G.  Washington  Gen.  Tay- 
ler  John  Bunyan  Capt.  Kidd  and  Dr.  Webster  in  the  act  of 
killin  Dr.  Parkman,  besides  several  miscellanyus  moral  wax 
sta toots  of  celebrated  piruts  &  murderers,  <tc.,  ekalled  by  few  & 
exceld  by  none.  Now  Mr.  Editor,  scratch  orf  a  few  lines 
sayin  how  is  the  show  bizniss  down  to  your  place.  I  shall 
hav  my  hanbills  dun  at  your  offiss.  Depend  upon  it.  I  want 
you  should  git  my  hanbills  up  in  flamin  stile.  Also  git  up  a 
tremenjus  excitemunt  in  yr.  paper  'bowt  my  onparaleld  Show. 
We  must  fetch  the  public  sumhow.  We  must  wurk  on  their 
feelins.  Cum  the  moral  on  'em  strong.  If  it's  a  temperance 
community  tell  'em  I  sined  the  pledge  fifteen  minits  arter  Ise 
born,  but  on  the  contery  ef  your  peple  take  their  tods,  say 
2 


26  ON  "FORTS" 

Mister  Ward  is  as  Jenial  a  feller  as  \ve  ever  met,  full  of  con- 
wiviality,  &  the  life  an  sole  of  the  Soshul  Bored.  Take-,  don't 
you  ?  If  you  say  any  thin  abowt  my  show  say  my  snaiks  is  as 
harinliss  as  the  new  born  Babe.  What  a  interestin  study  it  is 
to  see  a  zewological  animil  like  a  snaik  under  perteck  subjec- 
shun !  My  kangaroo  is  the  most  larfable  little  cuss  I  ever 
saw.  All  for  15  cents.  I  am  anxyus  to  skewer  your  infloo- 
unce.  I  repeet  in  regard  to  them  hanbills  that  I  shall  git  'em 
struck  orf  up  to  your  printin  office.  My  perlitercal  sentiments 
agree  with  yourn  exackly.  I  know  thay  do,  becawz  I  never 
saw  a  man  whoos  didn't. 

Respectively  yures, 

A.  WARD. 

P.  S.  —  You  scratch  my  back  &  He  scratch  your  back. 


ON  «  FORTS." 

EVERY  man  has  got  a  Fort.  It's  sum  men's  fort  to  do  one 
thing,  and  some  other  men's  fort  to  do  another,  while  there  is 
numeris  shiftliss  critters  goin  round  loose  whose  fort  is  not  to 
do  nothin. 

Shakspeer  rote  good  plase,  but  he  wouldn't  hav  succeeded  as 
a  Washington  correspondent  of  a  New  York  daily  paper.  He 
lackt  the  rekesit  fancy  and  imagginashun. 

That's  so ! 

Old  George  Washington's  Fort  was  not  to  hev  eny  public 
man  of  the  present  day  resemble  him  to  eny  alarmin  extent. 
Whare  bowts  can  George's  ekal  be  found?  I  ask,  &  boldly 
anser  no  whares,  or  eny  whare  else. 

Old  man  Townsin's  Fort  was  to.  jnaik  Sassyperiller.  ^  Qoy 
to  the  world  !  anuther  life  saived  |  "  (Cotashun  from  Town* 
sin's  advertisemunt.) 


ARTEMUS  RESCOOD  FROM  THE  KANAWL.      [See  Page  27.] 


ON  "FORTS."  27 

Cyrus  Field's  Fort  is  to  lay  a  sub-machine  tellegraf  under 
the  boundin  billers  of  the  Oshun,  and  then  hev  it  Bust. 

Spaldin's  Fort  is  to  maik  Prepared  Gloo,  which  mends 
everything.  Wonder  ef  it  will  mend  a  sinner's  wickid  waze. 
(Iinpromptoo  goak.) 

Zoaiy's  Fort  is  to  be  a  femaile  circus  feller. 

My  Fort  is  the  grate  moral  show  bizniss  &  ritin  choice  fam- 
erly  literatoor  for  the  noospapers.  That's  what's  the  matter 
with  me. 

<tc.,  &c.,  <fec.     So  I  mite  go  on  to  a  indefnit  extent. 

Twict  I've  endeverd  to  do  things  which  thay  wasn't  my 
Fort.  The  fust  time  was  when  I  undertuk  to  lick  a  owdashus 
cuss  who  cut  a  hole  in  my  tent  &  krawld  threw.  Sez  I, 
"  my  jentle  Sir  go  out  or  I  shall  fall  onto  you  putty  hevy." 
Sez  he,  u  Wade  in,  Old  wax  figgers,"  whareupon  I  went  for 
him,  but  he  cawt  me  powerful  on  the  lied  &,  knockt  me  threw 
the  tent  into  a  cow  pastur.  He  pursood  the,  attack  &  flung  me 
into  a  mud  puddle.  As  I  aroze  &  rung  out  my  drencht  gar- 
mints  I  koncluded  fitin  wasn't  my  Fort.  He  now  rize  the 
kurtin  upon  Seen  2nd :  It  is  rarely  seldum  that  I  seek  conso- 
lation in  the  Flowin  Bole.  But  in  a  sertin  town  in  Injianny 

in  the  Faul  of  18 ,  my  orgin  grinder  got  sick  with  the 

fever  £,  died.  I  never  felt  so  ashamed  in  my  life,  &  I  thowt 
I'd  hist  in  a  few  swallows  of  suthin  strengthin.  Konsequents 
was  I  histid  in  so  much  I  dident  zackly  know  whare  bowts  I 
was.  I  tumd  my  livin  wild  beests  of  Pray  loose  into  the 
streets  and  spilt  all  my  wax  wurks.  I  then  Bet  I  cood  play 
hoss.  So  I  hitched  myself  to  a  Kanawl  bote,  there  bein  two 
other  hosses  liitcht  on  also,  one  behind  and  anuther  ahead  of 
me.  The  driver  hollerd  for  us  to  git  up,  and  we  did.  But 
the  hosses  bein  onused  to  sich  a  amuigenumt  begun  to  kick  & 
squeal  and  rair  up.  Konsequents  was  I  was  kickt  vilently  in 
the  stummuck  <fc  back,  and  prcsimtly  I  fownd  myself  in  the 
Kanawl  with  the  other  hosses,  kickiu  &  yelliii  like  a  tribe  of 
Cusscaroorus  savvijis.  I  wasrescood,  &  as  I  was  bein  car  rid  to 


28  THE  SHAKERS. 

the  tavern  on  a  hemlock  Bored  I  sed  in  a  feeble  voise,  te  Boys, 
playiii  hoss  isn't  my  Fort." 

MORUL  —  Never  don't  do  nothin  which  isn't  your  Fort,  for 
ef  you  do  you'll  find  yourself  splashin  round  in  the  Kanawl, 
figgeratively  speakin. 


THE   SHAKERS. 

THE  Shakers  is  the  strangest  religious  sex  I  ever  met.  I'd 
hearn  tell  of  'em  and  I'd  seen  'em,  with  their  broad  brim'd  hats 
and  long  wastid  coats ;  but  I'd  never  cum  into  immejit  contack 
with  'em,  and  I'd  sot  'em  down  as  lackin  intelleck,  as  I'd  never 
seen  'em  to  my  Show  —  leastways,  if  they  cum  they  was  dis- 
gised  in  white  peple's  close,  so  I  didn't  know  'em. 

But  in  the  Spring  of  18 — ,  I  got  swampt  in  the  exterior  of 
New  York  State,  one  dark  and  stormy  night,  when  the  winds 
Blue  pityusly,  and  I  was  forced  to  tie  up  with  the  Shakers. 

I  was  toilin  threw  the  mud,  when  in  the  dim  vister  of  the 
futer  I  obsarved  the  gleams  of  a  taller  candle.  Tiein  a  hornet's 
nest  to  my  off  hoss's  tail  to  kinder  encourage  him,  I  soon 
reached  the  place.  I  knockt  at  the  door,  which  it  was  opened 
unto  me  by  a  tall,  slick-faced,  solum  lookin  individooal,  who 
turn'd  out  to  be  a  Elder. 

"  Mr.  Shaker,"  sed  I,  "  you  see  before  you  a  Babe  in  the 
woods,  so  to  speak,  and  he  axes  shelter  of  you." 

"  Yay,"  sed  the  Shaker,  and  he  led  the  way  into  the  house, 
another  Shaker  bein  sent  to  put  my  hosses  and  waggin  under 
kiver. 

A  solum  female,  lookin  sumwhat  like  a  last  year's  bean- 
pole stuck  into  a  long  meal  bag,  cum  in  and  axed  me  was  I 
athurst  and  did  I  hunger  ?  to  which  I  urbanely  anserd  "  a  few." 


THE  SHAKERS.  29 

She  went  orf  and  I  endeverd  to  open  a  conversasliun  with  the 
old  man. 

"  Elder,  I  spect  ?  "  sed  I. 

«  Yay,"  he  said. 

«  Keith's  good,  I  reckon?  " 

"  Yay." 

"  What's  the  wages,  of  a  Elder,  when  he  understans  his  biz- 
ness  —  or  do  you  devote  your  sarvices  gratooitus  ?  " 

"  Yay." 

"  Stormy  night,  sir." 

"  Yay." 

"  If  the  storm  continners  there'll  be  a  mess  underfoot,  hay  ?  " 

"  Yay." 

f{  It's  onpleasant  when  there's  a  mess  underfoot  ?  " 

"Yay." 

61  If  I  may  be  so  bold,  kind  sir,  what's  the  price  of  that  pe- 
cooler  kind  of  weskit  you  wear,,  incloodin  trimmins  ?  " 

"  Yay !  " 

I  pawsd  a  minit,  and  then,  thinkin  I'd  be  faseshus  with  him 
and  see  how  that  would  go,  I  slapt  him  on  the  shoulder,  bust 
into  a  harty  larf,  and  told  him  that  as  a  yayer  he  had  no  livin 
ekal. 

He  jumpt  up  as  if  Bilin  water  had  bin  squirted  into  his  ears, 
groaned,  rolled  his  eyes  up  tords  the  sealin  and  sed :  "  You're 
a  man  of  sin !  "  He  then  walkt  out  of  the  room. 

Jest  then  the  femal  ein  the  meal  bag  stuck  her  hed  into  the 
room  and  statid  that  refreshments  awaited  the  weary  travler, 
and  I  sed  if  it  was  vittles  she  ment  the  weary  travler  was 
agreeable,  and  I  follored  her  into  the  next  room. 

I  sot  down  to  the  table  and  the  female  in  the  meal  bag  pored 
out  sum  tea.  She  sed  nothin,  and  for  five  minutes  the  only 
live  thing  in  that  room  was  a  old  wooden  clock,  which  tickt  in 
a  subdood  and  bashful  manner  in  the  corner.  This  dethly 
stillness  made  me  oneasy,  and  I  determined  to  talk  to  the  fe- 
male or  bust.  So  sez  I,  "  marrige  is  agin  your  rules,  I  bleeve; 
marm  ?  " 


SO  %  THE  SHAKERS. 

«Yay." 

"  The  sexes  liv  strickly  apart,  I  spect  ?  " 

"  Yay." 

"  It's  kinder  singler,"  sez  I,  puttin  on  my  most  sweetest 
look  and  speakin  in  a  winnin  voice,  "  that  so  fair  a  made  as 
thou  never  got  hitched  to  some  likely  feller."  [N.  B.  —  She 
was  upards  of  40  and  homely  as  a  stump  fence,  but  I  thawt  I'd 
tickil  her.] 

"  I  don't  like  men !  "  she  sed,  very  short. 

"  Wall,  I  dunno,"  sez  I,  ft  they're  a  rayther  important  part 
of  the  populashun.  T  don't  scacely  see  how  we  could  git  along 
without  'em." 

"  Us  poor  wimin  folks  would  git  along  a  grate  deal  better 
if  there  was  no  men !  " 

"  You'll  excoos  me,  marin,  but  I  don't  think  that  air  would 
work.  It  wouldn't  be  regler." 

tl  I'm  fraid  of  men  !  "   she  sed. 

"  That's  onnecessary,  marm.  You  ain't  in  no  danger. 
Don't  fret  yourself  on  that  pint. 

"  Here  we're  shot  out  from  the  sinful  world.  Here  all  is 
peas.  Here  we  air  brothers  and  sisters.  We  don't  marry  and 
Donsekently  we  hav  no  domestic  difficulties.  Husbans  don't 
abooze  their  wives  —  wives  don't  worrit  their  husbans.  There's 
no  children  here  to  worrit  us.  Nothin  to  worrit  us  here.  No 
wicked  matrimony  here.  Would  thow  like  to  be  a  Shaker  ?  " 

"  No,"  sez  I,  "  it  ain't  my  stile." 

I  had  now  histed  in  as  big  a  load  of  pervishuns  as  I  could 
carry  comfortable,  and,  leanin  back  in  my  cheer,  commenst 
pickin  my  teeth  with  a  fork.  The  female  went  out,  leavin-me 
all  alone  with  the  clock.  I  hadn't  sot  thar  long  before  the 
Elder  poked  his  hed  in  at  the  door.  "  You're  a  man  of  sin !  " 
he  sed,  and  groaned  and  went  awry. 

Dircckly  thar  cum  in  two  young  Shakeresses,  as  putty  and 
slick  lookin  gals  as  I  ever  met.  It  is  troo  they  was  drest  in 
meal  bags  like  the  old  one  I'd  met  previsly,  and  their  shiny, 
silky  har  was  hid  from  sight  by  long  white  caps,  sich  as  I  spose 


THE  SHAKERS.  31 

female  Josts  wear ;  but  their  eyes  sparkled  like  diminds,  their 
cheeks  was  like  roses,  and  they  was  charmin  emiff  to  make  a 
man  throw  stuns  at  his  granmother  if  they  axed  him  to. 
They  comenst  clearin  away  the  dishes,  castin  shy  glances  at  me 
all  the  time.  I  got  excited.  I  forgot  Betsy  Jane  in  my  rap* 
ter,  and  sez  I,  "  my  pretty  dears,  how  air  you  ?  " 

"  We  air  well,"  they  solumly  sed. 

"  Whar's  the  old  man  ?  "  sed  I,  in  a  soft  voice. 

"  Of  whom  dost  thow  speak  —  Brother  Uriah  ?  " 

"  I  mean  the  gay  and  festiv  cuss  who  calls  me  a  man  of  sin. 
Shouldn't  wonder  if  his  name  was  Uriah." 

"  He  has  retired." 

"  Wall  my  pretty  dears,"  sez  I,  "  let's  have  sum  fun.  Let's 
play  puss  in  the  corner.  What  say  ?  " 

"  Air  you  a  Shaker,  sir  ?  "  they  axed. 

"  Wall  my  pretty  dears,  I  haven't  arrayed  my  proud  form, 
in  a  long  weskit  yit,  but  if  they  was  all  like  you  perhaps  I'd 
jine  'em.  As  it  is,  I'm  a  Shaker  pro-temporary." 

They  was  full  of  fun.  I  seed  that  at  fust,  only  they  was  a 
leetle  skeery.  I  tawt  'em  Puss  in  the  comer  and  sich  like 
plase,  and  we  had  a  nice  time,  keepin  quiet  of  course  so  the  old 
man  shouldn't  hear.  When  we  broke  up,  sez  I,  "  my  pretty 
deai-s,  ear  I  go  you  hav  no  objections,  hav  you,  to  a  innersent 
kiss  at  partin  ?  " 

"  Yay,"  they  sed,  and  I  ya\fd. 

I  went  up  stairs  to  bed.  I  spose  I'd  bin  snoozin  half  an 
hour  when  I  was  woke  up  by  a  noise  at  the  door.  I  sot  up  in 
bed,  leanin  on  my  elbers  and  rubbin  my  eyes,  and  I  saw  the 
follerin  picter  :  The  Elder  stood  in  the  doorway,  with  a  taller 
candle  in  his  hand.  He  hadn't  no  wearin  appeerel  on  except 
his  night  close,  which  flutterd  in  the  breeze  like  a  Seseshun 
flag.  He  sed,  "  You're  a  man  of  sin  !  "  then  groaned  and  went 
away. 

I  went  to  sleep  agin,  and  drempt  of  runnin  orf  with  the  pret- 
ty little  Shakeresses  mounted  on  my  Californy  Bar.  I  thawt 
the  Bar  insisted  on  steerin  strate  for  my  dooryard  in  Baldins- 


32  THE  SHAKERS. 

ville  and  that  Betsy  Jane  cum  out  and  giv  us  a  warm  recep- 
shun  with  a  panfull  of  Bilin  water.  I  was  woke  up  arly  by 
the  Elder.  He  sed  refreshments  was  reddy  for  me  down  stairs. 
Then  sayin  I  was  a  man  of  sin,  he  went  groanin  away. 

As  I  was  goin  threw  the  entry  to  the  room  where  the  vit- 
tles  was,  I  cum  across  the  Elder  and  the  old  female  I'd  met  the 
night  before,  and  what  d'ye  spose  they  was  up  to  ?  Huggin 
and  kissin  like  young  lovers  in  their  gushingist  state.  Sez  I, 
"  my  Shaker  frends,  I  reckon  you'd  better  suspend  the  rules 
and  git  married." 

"  You  must  excoos  Brother  Uriah,"  sed  the  female ;  "  he's 
subjeck  to  fits  and  hain't  got  no  command  over  hisself  when 
he's  into  'em." 

"  Sartinly,"  sez  I,  "  I've  bin  took  that  way  myself  frequent." 

"  You're  a  man  of  sin  !  "  sed  the  Elder. 

Arter  breakfust  my  little  Shaker  frends  cum  in  agin  to  clear 
away  the  dishes. 

"  My  pretty  dears,"  sez  I,  "  shall  we  yay  agin  ? 

"  Nay,"  they  sed,  and  I  nay'di 

The  Shakers  axed  me  to  go  to  their  meetin,  as  they  was  to 
hav  sarvices  that  mornin,  so  I  put  on  a  clean  biled  rag  and 
went.  The  meetin  house  was  as  neat  as  a  pin.  The  floor  was 
white  as  chalk  and  smooth  as  glass.  The  Shakers  was  all  on 
hand,  in  clean  weskits  and  meal  bags,  ranged  on  the  floor  like 
milingtery  companies,  the  mails  011  one  side  of  the  room  and 
the  females  on  tother.  They  commenst  clappin  their  hands 
and  singin  and  dancin.  They  danced  kinder  slow  at  fust,  but 
as  they  got  warmed  up  they  shaved  it  down  very  brisk,  I  tell 
you.  Elder  Uriah,  in  particler,  exhiberted  a  right  smart 
chance  of  spryness  in  his  legs,  considerin  his  time  of  life,  and 
as  he  cum  a  dubble  shuffle  near  where  I  sot,  I  rewarded  him 
with  a  approvin  smile  and  sed :  "  Hunky  boy  !  Go  it,  my  gay 
and  festiv  cuss  !  " 

ft  Your'e  a  man  of  sin !  "  he  sed,  continnerin  his  shuffle. 

The  Sperret,  as  they  called  it,  then  moved  a  short  fat  Shaker 
to  say  a  few  remarks.  He  sed  they  was  Shakers  and  all  was 


ARTEMUS   AMONO    THE  SHAKERS.      '  YAY,"  THEY  SET>,  AND  I 
YAT'D.     [See  Page  32] 


TEE  SHAKERS.  33 

ekal.  Tliey  was  the  purest  and  Seleckest  peple  on  the  yearth. 
Other  peple  was  sinful  as  they  could  be,  but  Shakers  was  all 
right.  Shakers  was  all  goin  kerslap  to  the  Promist  Land,  and 
nobody  want  goin  to  stand  at  the  gate  to  bar  'em  out,  if  they 
did  they'd  git  run  over. 

The  Shakers  then  danced  and  sung  agin,  and  arter  they  was 
threw,  one  of  'em  axed  me  what  I  thawt  of  it. 

Sez  I,  "What  duz  it  siggerfy? " 

"What?"sezhe. 

"  Why  this  jumpin  up  and  singin  ?  This  long  weskit  biz- 
niss,  and  this  anty-matrimony  idee  ?  My  frends,  you  air  neat 
and  tidy.  Your  lands  is  flowin  with  milk  and  honey.  Your 
brooms  is  fine,  and  your  apple  sass  is  honest.  When  a  man 
buys  a  keg  of  apple  sass  of  you  he  don't  find  a  grate  many 
shavins  under  a  few  layers  of  sass  —  a  little  Game  I'm  sorry 
to  say  sum  of  my  New  Englan  ancesters  used  to  practiss. 
Your  garding  seeds  is  fine,  and  if  I  should  sow  'em  on  the 
rock  of  Gibralter  probly  I  should  raise  a  good  mess  of  garding 
sass.  You  air  honest  in  your  dealins.  You  air  quiet  and 
don't  distarb  nobody.  For  all  this  I  givs  you  credit.  But 
your  religion  is  small  pertaters,  I  must  say.  You  mope  away 
your  lives  here  in  single  retchidness,  and  as  you  air  all  by 
yourselves  nothing  ever  conflicks  with  your  pecooler  idees,  ex- 
cept when  Human  Nater  busts  out  among  you,  as  I  understan 
she  sumtimes  do.  [I  giv  Uriah  a  sly  wink  here,  which  made 
the  old  feller  squirm  like  a  speared  Eel.]  You  wear  long 
weskits  and  long  faces,  and  lead  a  gloomy  life  indeed.  No 
children's  prattle  is  ever  hearii  around  your  liarthstuns  —  you 
air  in  a  dreary  fog  all  the  time,  and  you  treat  the  jolly  sun- 
shine of  life  as  tho'  it  was  a  thief,  drivin  it  from  your  doors 
by  them  weskits,  and  meal  bags,  and  pecooler  noshuns  of  yourn. 
The  gals  among  you,  sum  of  which  air  as  slick  pieces  of  caliker 
as  I  ever  sot  eyes  on,  air  syin  to  place  their  heds  agin  weskits 
which  kiver  honest,  manly  harts,  while  you  old  heds  fool  yer- 
selves  with  the  idee  that  they  air  fulfillin  their  rnishun  here, 
and  air  contented.  Here  you  air,  all  pend  up  by  yerselves, 


34:  HIGH-HANDED  OUTRAGE  AT  UTICA. 

talkiri  about  the  sins  of  a  world  you  don't  know  nothin  of. 
Meanwhile  said  world  continners  to  resolve  round  on  her  own 
axeltree  onct  in  every  24  hours,  subjeck  to  the  Constitution 
of  the  United  States,  and  is  a  very  plesant  place  of  residence. 
It's  a  unnatral,  onreasonable  and  dismal  life  your'e  leadin  here. 
So  it  strikes  me.  My  Shaker  frends,  I  now  bid  you  a  welcome 
adoo.  You  hav  treated  me  exceedin  well.  Thank  you  kindly, 
one  and  all. 

"A  base  exhibiter  of  depraved  monkeys  and  onpriiicipled 
wax  works  !  "  sed  Uriah. 

"  Hello,  Uriah,"  sez  I,  "  I'd  most  forgot  you.  Wall,  look 
out  for  them  fits  of  yourn,  and  don't  catch  cold  and  die  in  the 
flour  of  your  youth  and  beauty." 

And  I  resoomed  my  jerney. 


HIGH-HANDED   OUTBAGE  AT   UTICA. 

IN  the  Paul  of  1856,  I  showed  my  show  in  Utiky,  a  trooly 
grate  sitty  in  the  State  of  New  York. 

The  people  gave  me  a  cordyal  recepshun.  The  press  was 
loud  in  her  prases. 

1  day  as  I  was  givin  a  descripshun  of  my  Beests  and  Snaiks 
in  my  usual  flowry  stile  what  was  my  skorn  &  disgust  to  see  a 
big  burly  feller  walk  up  to  the  cage  containin  my  wax  figgers 
of  the  Lord's  Last  Supper^  and  cease  Judas  Iscarrot  by  the 
feet  and  drag  him  out  on  the  ground.  He  then  commenced 
fur  to  pound  him  as  hard  as  he  cood. 

"  What  under  the  son  are  you  abowt  ?  "  cried  I. 

Sez  he,  "  What  did  you  bring  this  pussylanermus  cuss  here 
fur?"  &  he  hit  the  wax  figger  another  tremenjis  blow  on  the 
hed. 


CELEBRATION  AT  BALDINSVILLE.  35 

Sez  I,  "  Yon  egrejus  ass,  that  air's  a  wax  figger  —  a  repre- 
sentashun  of  the  false  'Postle." 

Sez  hej  ;<  That's  all  very  well  fur  you  to  say,  but  I  tell  you, 
old  man,  that  Judas  Iscarrot  can't  show  hisself  in  Utiky  with 
iinpunerty  by  a  darn  site !  "  with  which  observashun  he  kaved 
in  Judassis  hed.  The  young  man  belonged  to  1  of  the  first 
famerlies  in  Utiky.  I  sood  him,  and  the  Joory  brawt  in  a 
verdick  of  Arson  in  the  3d  degree. 


CELEBRATION  AT  BALDINSVILLE  IN  HONOR 
OF  THE  ATLANTIC*CABLE. 

BALDINSVILLE,  INJIANNY,  Sep.  the  onct,  18&58. —  I  was 
summund  home  from  Cinsinnaty  quite  suddin  by  a  lettur  from 
the  Supervizers  of  Baldinsville,  sayin  as  how  grate  things  was 
on  the  Tappis  in  that  air  town  in  refferunse  to  sellebratin  the 
compleshun  of  the  Sub-Mershine  Tellergraph  £  axldn  me  to  be 
Pressunt.  Lockin  up  my  Kangeroo  and  wax  wurks  in  a  sekure 
stile  I  took  my  departer  for  Baldinsville  —  "  my  own,  my  nativ 
Ian,"  which  I  gut  intwo  at  early  kandle  litin  on  the  follerin 
night  &  j  ust  as  the  sellerbrashun  and  illumernashun  ware  com- 
mensin. 

Baldinsville  was  trooly  in  a  blaze  of  glory.  Near  can  I 
forgit  the  surblime  speckticul  which  met  my  gase  as  I  alited 
from  the  Staige  with  my  umbreller  and  verlise.  The  Tarvern 
was  lit  up  with  taller  kandles  all  over  &  a  grate  bon  fire  was 
bumin  in  frunt  thareof.  A  Transpirancy  was  tied  onto  the 
sine  post  with  the  follerin  wurds  —  "  Giv  us  Liberty  or  Deth." 
Old  Tompkinsis  grosery  was  illumeniated  with  5  tin  lantuns 
and  the  follerin  Transpirancy  was  in  the  winder  — tf  The  Sub- 
Mershine  Tellergraph  &  the  Baldinsville  and  Stonefield  Plank 
Road  —  the  2  grate  eventz  of  the  19th  cen  terry  —  may  intes- 


36  CELEBRATION  AT  BALDINSVILLE. 

tines  strife  never  mar  their  grand]  ure."  Simpkinsis  shoe  shop 
was  all  ablase  with  kandles  and  lantuns.  A  American  Eagle 
was  painted  onto  a  flag  in  a  winder  —  also  these  wurds,  viz.  — 
"The  Constitooshim  must  be  Presarved."  The  Skool  house 
was  lited  up  in  grate  stile  and  the  winders  was  filld  with 
mottoes  amung  which  I  notised  the  follerin  — "  Trooth 
smashed  to  erth  shall  rize  agin  —  YOU  CAN'T  STOP  HER."  "  The 
Boy  stood  on  the  Burnin  Deck  whense  awl  but  him  had  Fled." 
"  Prokrastinashun  is  the  theaf  of  Time."  "  Be  virtoous  & 
you  will  be  Happy."  "  Intemperunse  has  cawsed  a  heap  of 
trubble  —  shun  the  Bole,"  an  the  follerin  sentimunt  written  by 
the  skool  master,  who  graduated  at  Hudson  Kollige.  tl  Balcl- 
insville  sends  greetin  to  Her  Magisty  the  Queen,  &  hopes  all 
hard  feelins  which  has  heretofore  previs  bin  felt  between  the 
Supervizers  of  Baldinswlle  and  the  British  Parlimunt,  if  such 
there  has  been,  may  now  be  forever  wiped  frum  our  Escutchuns. 
Baldinsville  this  night  rejoises  over  the  gerlorious  event  which 
sementz  2  grate  iiashuns  onto  one  anutlier  by  means  of  a 
elecktric  wire  under  the  roarin  billers  of  the  Nasty  Deep. 

QUOSQUE    TANTRUM,  A    BUTTER,  CATERLINY.  PATENT    NOSTRUM  1  " 

Squire  Smith's  house  was  lited  up  regardlis  of  expense.  His 
little  sun  William  Henry  stood  upon  the  roof  firin  orf  crackers. 
The  old  'Squire  hisself  was  dressed  up  in  soljer  clothes  and 
stood  on  his  door-step,  pintin  his  sword  sollumly  to  a  American 
flag  which  was  suspendid  on  top  of  a  pole  in  fruiit  of  his  house. 
Frequiently  he  wood  take  orf  his  cocked  hat  &  wave  it  round 
in  a  impressive  stile.  His  oldest  darter  Mis  Isabeller  Smith, 
who  has  just  cum  home  from  the  Perkinsville  Female  Instertoot, 
appeared  at  the  frnnt  winder  in  the  West  room  as  the  goddis 
of  liberty,  &  sung  "  I  see  them  on  their  windin  way."  Boot- 
eus  I,  sed  I  to  myself,  you  air  a  angil  &  nothin  shorter.  N. 
Boneparte  Smith,  the  'Squire's  oldest  sun,  drest  hisself  up  as 
Venus  the  God  of  Wars  and  red  the  Decleratioii  of  Inderpend- 
unse  from  the  left  chambir  winder.  The  'Squire's  wife  didn't 
jine  in  the  festiverties.  She  sed  it  was  the  tarnulest  nonsense 
she  ever  seed.  Sez  she  to  the  'Squire,  "  Cum  into  the  house  and 


CELEBRATION  AT  BALDINSVILLE.  37 

§ 
go  to  bed  you  old  fool,  you.     Toinorrer  you'll  be  goin  round 

half-ded  with  the  rumertism  &  won't  gin  us  a  minit's  peace  till 
you  get  well."  Sez  the  'Squire,  "  Betsy,  you  little  appresiate 
the  importance  of  the  event  which  I  this  night  commemerate." 
Sez  she,  "  Commemerate  a  cat's  tail  —  cum  into  the  house  this 
instant,  you  pesky  old  critter."  "  Betsy,"  sez  the  'Squire, 
wavin  his  sword,  "  retire."  This  made  her  just  as  mad  as  she 
could  stick.  She  retired,  but  cum  out  agin  putty  quick  with 
a  panfull  of  Bilin  hot  water  which  she  throwed  all  over  the 
Squire,  &  Surs,  you  wood  have  split  your  sides  larfin  to  see 
the  old  man  jump  up  and  holler  &  run  into  the  house.  Ex- 
cept this  unpropishus  circumstance  all  went  as  merry  as  a 
carriage  bell,  as  Lord  Byrun  sez.  Doctor  Hutchinsis  offiss  was 
likewise  lited  up  and  a  Transpirancy  on  which  was  painted  the 
Queen  in  the  act  of  drinkin  sum  of  "  Hutchinsis  invigorater," 
was  stuck  into  one  of  the  winders.  The  Baldinsville  Bugle  of 
Liberty  noospaper  offiss  was  also  illumernated,  &  the  follerin 
mottoes  stuck  out  —  "  The  Press  is  the  Arkermejian  leaver 
which  moves  the  world."  "  Yote  Early."  "  Buckle  on  your 
Armer."  "Now  is  the  time  to  Subscribe."  "Franklin, 
Morse  &  Field."  "Terms  $1,50  a  year  —  liberal  reducshuns 
to  clubs."  In  short  the  villige  of  Baldinsville  was  in  a  per- 
fect fewroar.  I  never  seed  so  many  peple  thar  befour  in  my 
born  days.  He  not  attemp  to  describe  the  seens  of  that  grate 
night.  Wurds  wood  fale  me  ef  I  shood  try  to  do  it.  I  shall 
stop  here  a  few  periods  and  enjoy  my  "Oatem  cum  dig  the 
tates,"  as  our  skool  master  observes,  in  the  buzzuin  of  my 
famerly,  &  shall  then  resume  the  show  bisnis,  which  Ive  bin 
into  twenty-two  (22)  yeres  and  six  (6)  months. 


38  AMONG  THE  SPIRITS. 


AMONG  THE  SPIRITS. 

MY  naburs  is  mourn  harf  crazy  on  the  new-fangled  idear 
about  Sperrets.  Sperretooul  Sircles  is  held  nitely  &  4  or  5 
long  hared  fellers  has  settled  here  and  gone  into  the  Sperret 
biznis  excloosively.  A  atemt  was  made  to  git  Mrs.  A.  Ward 
to  embark  into  the  Sperret  biznis  but  the  atemt  faled.  1  of 
the  long  hared  fellers  told  her  she  was  a  ethereal  creeter  & 
wood  make  a. sweet  mejium,  whareupon  she  attact  him  with  a 
mop  handle  &  drove  him  out  of  the  house.  I  will  hear  ob- 
sarve  that  Mrs.  Ward  is  a  invalerble  womun  —  the  partner  of 
my  goys  &  the  shairer  of  my  sorrers.  In  my  absunse  she 
watchis  my  interests  &  things  with  a  Eagle  Eye  &  when  I  re- 
turn she  welcums  me  in  afectionate  stile.  Trooly  it  is  with  us 
as  it  was  with  Mr.  &  Mrs.  INGOMER  in  the  Play,  to  whit,  — 

2  soles  with  but  a  single  thawt 
2  harts  which  beet  as  1. 

My  naburs  injooced  me  to  attend  a  Sperretooul  Sircle  at 
Squire  Smith's.  When  I  arrove  I  found  the  east  room  chock 
full  includin  all  the  old  maids  in  the  villige  &  the  long  hared 
fellers  a4sed.  When  I  went  in  I  was  salootid  with  "hear 
cums  the  benited  man  "  — (t  hear  cums  the  hory-heded  unbe- 
leever "  •  — "  hear  cums  the  skoffer  at  trooth,"  etsettery,  et- 
settery. 

Sez  I,  "my  frens,  it's  troo  I'm  hear,  <fe  now  bring  on  "your 
Sperrets." 

1  of  the  long  hared  fellers  riz  up  and  sed  he  would  state  a 
few  remarks.  He  sed  man  was  a  critter  of  intelleck  &  was 
movin  on  to  a  Gole.  Sum  men  had  bigger  intellecks  than 
other  men  had  and  thay  wood  git  to  the  Gole  the  soonerest. 
Sum  men  was  beests  &  wood  never  git  into  the  Gole  at  all. 
He  sed  the  Erth  was  materiel  but  man  was  immaterial,  and 
hens  man  was  different  from  the  Erth.  The  Erth,  continnered 


AMONG  THE  SPIRITS.  39 

the  speaker,  resolves  round  on  its  own  axeltree  oncfc  in  24 
hours,  but  as  man  haint  gut  no  axeltree  he  cant  resolve.  He 
sed  the  ethereal  essunce  of  the  koordinate  branchis  of  super- 
human natur  becum  mettymorfussed  as  man  progrest  in  har- 
monial  coexistunce  &  eventooally  anty  humanized  theirselves 
&  turned  into  reglar  sperretuellers.  [This  was  versifferusly 
applauded  by  the  cumpany,  and  as  I  make  it  a  pint  to  get 
along  as  pleasant  as  possible,  I  sung  out  "  bully  for  you,  old 
boy."] 

The  cumpany  then  drew  round  the  table  and  the  Sircle 
kommenst  to  go  it.  Thay  axed  me  if  thare  was  an  body  in 
the  Sperret  land  which  I  wood  like  to  convarse  with.  I  sed  if 
Bill  Tompkins,  who  was  onct  my  partner  in  the  show  biznis, 
was  sober,  I  should  like  to  convarse  with  him  a  few  periods. 

"  Is  the  Sperret  of  William  Tompkins  present  ?  "  sed  1  of 
the  long  hared  chaps,  and  there  was  three  kmox  on  the  table. 

Sez  I,  "  William,  how  goze  it,  Old  Sweetness  ?  " 

"  Pretty  ruff,  old  hoss,"  he  replide. 

That  was  a  pleasant  way  we  had  of  addressin  each  other 
when  he  was  in  the  flesh. 

"  Air  you  in  the  show  bizniz,  William,"  sed  I. 

He  sed  he  was.  He  sed  he  &  John  Bunyan  was  travel  in 
with  a  side  show  in  connection  with  Shakspere,  Jonson  &  Co.'s 
Circus.  Pie  sed  old  Bun  (meanin  Mr.  Bunyan,)  stired  up  the 
animils  &  ground  the  organ  while  he  tended  door.  Occashun- 
ally  3Ir.  Bunyan  sung  a  comic  song.  The  Circus  was  doin 
middlin  well.  Bill  Shakspeer  had  made  a  grate  hit  with  old 
Bob  Ridley,  and  Ben  Jonson  was  delitin  the  peple  with  his 
trooly  grate  ax  of  hossmanship  without  saddul  or  bridal. 
Thay  was  rehersin  Dixey's  Land  &  expected  it  would  knock 
the  peple. 

Sez  I,  "  William,  my  luvly  friend,  can  you  pay  me  that  13 
dollars  you  owe  me  ?  "  He  sed  no  with  one  of  the  most  tre- 
menjis  knox  I  ever  experiunsed. 

The  Sircle  sed  he  had  gone.     "  Air  you  gone,  William  ?  "  I 


40  AMONG  THE  SPIRITS. 

axed.     '*  Rayther,"  he  replide,  and  I  knowd  it  was  no  use  to 
pursoo  the  subjeck  furder. 

I  then  called  fur  my  farther. 

"  How's  things,  daddy  ?  " 

"  Middlin,  my  son,  middlin." 

"  Ain't  you  proud  of  your  orfum  boy  ?  " 

"  Scacely." 

"  Why  not,  my  parient  ?  " 

"  Becawz  you  hav  gone  to  writin  for  the  noospapers,  my 
son.  Bimeby  you'll  lose  all  your  character  for  trooth  and  ver- 
rasserty.  When  I  helpt  you  into  the  show  biznis  I  told  you 
to  dignerfy  that  there  profeshun.  Litteratoor  is  low." 

He  also  statid  that  he  was  doin  middlin  well  in  the  peanut 
biznis  &  liked  it  putty  well,  tho'  the  climit  was  rather  warm. 

When  the  Sircle  stopt  thay  axed  me  what  I  thawt  of  it. 

Sez  I,  "  My  frends  I've  bin  into  the  show  biznis  now  goin 
on  23  years.  Theres  a  artikil  in  the  Constitooshuii  of  the 
United  States  which  sez  in  effeck  that  everybody  may  think 
just  as  he  darn  pleazes,  &  them  is  my  sentiments  to  a  hare. 
You  dowtlis  beleeve  this  Sperret  doctrin  while  I  think  it  is  a 
little  mixt.  Just  so  soon  as  a  man  becums  a  reglar  out  &  out 
Sperret  rapper  he  leeves  orf  workin,  lets  his  hare  grow  all  over 
his  fase  &  commensis  spungin  his  livin  out  of  other  peple.  He 
eats  all  the  dickshunaries  he  can  find  &  goze  round  chock  full 
of  big  words,  scarein  the  wimmin  folks  &  little  children  &  de- 
stroyin  the  piece  of  mind  of  evry  famerlee  he  enters.  He 
don't  do  nobody  no  good  &  is  a  cuss  to  society  &  a  pirit  on 
honest  peple's  corn  beef  barrils.  Admittin  all  you  say  abowt 
the  doctrin  to  be  troo,  I  must  say  the  reglar  perfessional 
Sperrit  rappers  —  them  as  makes  a  biznis  on  it  —  air  abowt 
the  most  ornery  set  of  cusses  I  ever  enkountered  in  my  life. 
So  sayin  I  put  on  my  surtoot  and  went  home. 

Respectably  Yures, 

ARTEMUS  WARD. 


ON  THE  WING.  41 


ON  THE   WING. 

Gents  of  the  Editorial  Corpse :  — 

SINCE  I  last  rit  you  I've  met  with  immense  success  a  showin 
my  show  in  varis  places,  particly  at  Detroit.  I  put  up  at  Mr. 
Russel's  tavern,  a  very  good  tavern  too,  but  I  am  sorry  to  in- 
form you  that  the  clerks  tried  to  cum  a  Gouge  Game  on  me. 
I  brandished  my  new  sixteen  dollar  huntin-cased  watch  round 
considerable,  &  as  I  was  drest  in  my  store  clothes  &  had  a  lot 
of  sweet-scented  wagon-grease  on  my  hair,  I  am  free  to  confess 
that  I  thought  I  lookt  putty  gay.  It  never  once  struck  me  that 
I  lookt  green.  But  up  steps  a  clerk  &  axes  me  hadn't  I  better 
put  my  watch  in  the  Safe.  "  Sir,"  sez  I,  "  that  watch  cost  six- 
teen dollars !  Yes,  Sir,  every  dollar  of  it !  You  can't  cum  it 
over  me,  my  boy !  Not  at  all,  Sir."  I  know'd  what  the  clerk 
wanted.  He  wanted  that  watch  himself.  He  wanted  to  make 
believe  as  tho  he  lockt  it  up  in  the  safe,  then  he  would  set  the 
house  a  fire  and  pretend  as  fho  the  watch  was  destroyed  with 
the  other  property !  But  he  caught  a  Tomarter  when  he  got 
hold  of  me.  From  Detroit  I  go  West'ard  hoe.  On  the  cars 
was  a  he-lookin  female,  with  a  green-cotton  umbreller  in  one 
hand  and  a  handful  of  Reform  tracks  the  other.  She  sed  every 
woman  should  have  a  Spear.  Them  as  didn't  demand  their 
Spears,  didn't  know  what  was  good  for  them.  "  What  is  my 
Spear  ?  "  she  axed,  addressing  the  people  in  the  cars.  "  Is  it 
to  stay  at  home  &  dam  stockins  &  be  the  sex-lave  of  a  domin- 
eerin  man  ?  Or  is  it  my  Spear  to  vote  &  speak  &  show  myself 
the  ekal  of  man  ?  Is  there  a  sister  in  these  keers  that  has  her 
proper  Spear?  "  Sayin  which  the  eccentric  female  whirled 
her  umbreller  round  several  times,  &  finally  jabbed  me  in  the 
weskit  with  it. 

"  I  hav  no  objecshuns  to  your  goin  into  the  Spear  bizness," 
sez  I,  "  but  you'll  please  remember  I  ain't  a  pickeril.  Don't 
Spear  me  agin,  if  you  please."  She  sot  down. 


42  ON  THE   WING. 

At  Ann  Arbor,  bein  seized  with  a  sudden  faintness,  I  called 
for  a  drop  of  suthin  to  drink.  As  I  was  stirrin  the  beverage 
up,  a  pale-faced  man  in  gold  spectacles  laid  his  hand  upon  my 
shoulder,  &  sed,  u  Look  not  upon  the  wine  when  it  is  red !  " 

Sez  I,  « this  ain't  wine.     This  is  Old  Rye." 

"  It  stingetli  like  a  Adder  and  biteth  like  a  Sarpent  !  "  sed  the 
man. 

"  I  guess  not,"  sed  I,  "  when  you  put  sugar  into  it.  That's 
the  way  I  allers  take  mine." 

"  Have  you  sons  grown  up,  sir  ?  "  the  man  axed. 

"  Wall,"  I  replide,  as  I  put  myself  outside  my  beverage,  "my 
son  Artemus  junior  is  goin  on  18." 

"  Ain't  you  afraid  if  you  set  this  example  b4  him  he'll  cum 
to  a  bad  end  ?  " 

11  He's  cum  to  a  waxed  end  already.  He's  learnin  the  shoe 
makin  bizness,"  I  replide.  "  I  guess  we  can  both  011  us  git 
along  without  your  assistance,  Sir,"  I  obsarved,  as  he  was  about 
to  open  his  mouth  agin. 

"  This  is  a  cold  world !  "  sed  the  man. 

"  That's  so.  But  you'll  get  into  a  warmer  one  by  and  by  if 
you  don't  mind  your  own  bizness  better."  I  was  a  little  riled 
at  the  feller,  because  I  never  take  anythin  only  when  I'm  on- 
well.  I  arterwards  learned  he  was  a  temperance  lecturer,  and 
if  he  can  injuce  men  to  stop  settin  their  inards  on  fire  with  the 
frightful  licker  which  is  retailed  round  the  country,  I  shall 
hartily  rejoice.  Better  give  men  Prusick  Assid  to  onct,  than 
to  pizen  'em  to  deth  by  degrees. 

At  Albion  I  met  with  overwhelmin  success.  The  celebrated 
Albion  Female  Semenary  is  located  here,  &  there  air  over  300 
young  ladies  in  the  Institushim,  pretty  enough  to  eat  without 
seasonin  or  sass.  The  young  ladies  was  very  kind  to  me,  vol- 
unteerin  to  pin  my  handbills  onto  the  backs  of  their  dresses. 
It  was  a  surblime  site  to  see  over  300  young  ladies  goin  round 
with  a  advertisement  of  A.  Ward's  onparaleld  show,  conspick- 
usly  posted  onto  their  dresses. 

They've  got  a  Panick  up  this  way  and  refooze  to  take  Wes- 


THE  OCTOROON.  43 

tern  money.  It  never  was  worth  much  and  when  western  men, 
who  know  what  it  is,  refooze  to  take  their  own  money  it  is 
about  time  other  folks  stopt  handiin  it.  Banks  are  bustin 
every  day,  goin  up  higher  nor  any  balloon  of  which  we  hav  any 
record.  These  western  bankers  air  a  sweet  &  luvly  set  of  men. 
I  Vvish  I  owned  as  good  a  house  as  some  of  'em  would  break 
into  ! 

Virtoo  is  its  own  reward. 

A.  WARD. 


THE   OCTOROON. 

IT  is  with  no  ordernary  feelins  of  Shagrin  &  indignashun  that 
I  rite  you  these  here  lines.  Sum  of  the  hiest  and  most  purest 
feelins  whitch  actoate  the  humin  hart  has  bin  trampt  onto. 
The  Amerycan  flag  has  bin  outrajed.  Ive  bin  nussin  a  Adder 
in  my  Boozuin.  The  fax  in  the  kase  is  these  here  : 

A  few  weeks  ago  I  left  Baldinsville  to  go  to  N.  Y.  fur  to  git 
out  my  flamin  yeller  hanbiils  fur  the  Summer  kampane,  &  as  I 
was  peroosin  a  noospaper  on  the  kars  a  middel  aged  man  in 
spscktorkuls  kuin  &  sot  down  beside  onto  me.  He  was  drest 
in  black  close  &  was  appeerently  as  fine  a  man  as  ever  was. 

"  A  fine  day,  Sir,"  he  did  unto  me  strateway  say. 

"  r.Iiddlin,"  sez  I,  not  \visliin  to  kornmit  myself,  tho  he 
peered  to  bo  as  fine  a  man  as  there  was  in  the  wurld  —  "  It  is 
a  middlin  fine  day,  Square,"  I  obsarved. 

Sez  he,  "How  fares  the  Ship  of  State  in  yure  regine  of 
country  ?  " 

Sez  I,  "  We  don't  hav  no  ships  in  our  State  —  the  kanawl 
is  our  bast  holt." 

Ho  pawsed  a  ininit  and  then  sed,  "  Air  yu  aware,  Sir,  that 
the  krisis  is  with  us  ?  " 


M  THE  OCTOROON. 

"  No,"  sez  I,  getting  up  and  lookin  tinder  the  seet,  "  wliare 
is  she  ?  " 

"  It's  hear  —  it's  everywhares,"  he  sed. 

Sez  I,  "  Why  how  you  tawk  !  "  and  I  gut  up  agin  &  lookt 
all  round.  t(  I  must  say,  my  fren,"  I  continnered,  as  I  re- 
soomed  my  seet,  "  that  I  kan't  see  nothin  of  no  krisis  myself." 
I  felt  sumwhat  alarmed,  &  arose  &  in  a  steiitowrian  voice  ob- 
sarved  that  if  any  lady  or  gentleman  in  that  there  kar  had  a 
krisis  consealed  abowt  their  persons  they'd  better  projuce  it  to 
onct  or  suffer  the  konsequences.  Several  individoouls  snick- 
ered rite  out,  while  a  putty  little  damsell  rite  behind  me  in  a 
pine  gown  made  the  observashun,  "  He,  he." 

"  Sit  down,  my  fren,"  sed  the  man  in  black  close,  "  yu  mis- 
kompreherid  me.  I  meen  that  the  perlittercal  ellermunts  are 
orecast  with  black  klouds,  4bodeii  a  friteful  storm." 

"  Wall,"  replide  I,  "  in  regard  to  perlittercal  ellerfunts  I 
don't  know  as  how  but  what  they  is  as  good  as  enny  other  kind 
of  ellerfunts.  But  I  maik  bold  to  say  thay  is  all  a  ornery  set 
&  unpleasant  to  hav  around.  They  air  powerful  hevy  eaters 
&  take  up  a  right  smart  chans  of  room,  &  besides  thay  air  as 
ugly  and  revenjeful  as  a  Cusscaroarus  Injun,  with  13  inches 
of  corn  whisky  in  his  sturnmick."  The  man  in  black  close 
seemed  to  be  as  fine  a  man  as  ever  was  in  the  world.  He 
sinilt  &  sed  praps  I  was  rite,  tho  it  was  ellermunts  instid  of 
ellerfunts  that  he  was  alludin  to,  .&  axed  me  what  was  my  prin- 
serpuls  ? 

"  I  haint  gut  enny,"  sed  I  —  "  not  a  prinserpul.  Ime  in  the 
show  biznis."  The  man  in  black  close,  I  will  hear  obsarve, 
seemed  to  be  as  fine  a  man  as  ever  was  in  the  world. 

li  But,"  sez  he,  "  you  hav  feelins  into  you  ?  You  cirnpathize 
with  the  misfortunit,  the  loly  &  the  hart-sick,  don't  you  ?  " 
He  bust  into  teers  and  axed  me  ef  I  saw  that  yung  lady  in  the 
seet  out  yender,  pintin  to  as  slick  a  lookin  gal  as  I  ever  seed. 

Sed  I,  "  2  be  shure  I  see  her — is  she  mutch  sick  ?  "  The 
man  in  black  close  was  appeerently  as  fine  a  man  as  ever  was 
in  the  world  ennywhares, 


THE  OCTOROON.  45 

"  Draw  closter  to  me,"  sed  the  man  in  black  close.  <£  Let 
me  git  my  mowth  fernenst  yure  ear.  Hush  —  SHESE  A  Oc- 
TOROOX  !  " 

"  No  !  "  sez  I,  gittin  up  in  a  exsited  manner,  "  yu  don't  say 
so  !  How  long  has  she  bin  in  that  way  ?  " 

"  Frum  her  arliest  infuncy,"  sed  he. 

"  Wall,  whot  upon  arth  duz  she  doo  it  fur  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"  She  kan't  help  it,"  sed  the  man  in  black  close.  "  It's  the 
brand  of  Kane." 

"  Wall,  she'd  better  stop  drinkin  Kane's  brandy,"  I  replide. 

"  I  sed  the  brand  of  Kane  was  upon  her  —  not  brandy,  my 
fren.  Yure  very  obtoose." 

I  was  konsiderbul  riled  at  this.  Sez  I,  tl  My  gentle  Sir,  Ime 
a  nonresistanter  as  a  ginral  thing,  &  don't  want  to  git  up  no 
rows  with  nobuddy,'  but  I  kin  nevertheles  kave  in  enny  man's 
hed  that  calls  me  a  obtoos,"  with  whitch  remarks  I  kominenst 
fur  to  pull  orf  my  extry  garmints.  "  Cum  on,"  sez  I  — "  Time ! 
hear's  the  Beniki  Boy  fur  ye  !  "  &  I  darnced  round  like  a  pop- 
pit.  He  riz  up  in  his  seet  &  axed  my  pardin  —  sed  it  was  all 
a  mistake  —  that  I  was  a  good  man,  etsettery,  &  sow  4th,  &  we 
fixt  it  all  up  pleasant.  I  must  say  the  man  in  black  close 
seamed  to  be  as  fine  a  man  as  ever  lived  in  the  wurld.  He 
sed  a  Octoroon  was  the  8th  of  a  negrow.  He  likewise  statid 
that  the  female  he  was  travlin  with  was  formurly  a  slave  in 
Mississippy ;  that  she'd  purchist  her  freedim  &  now  wantid  to 
purchiss  the  freedim  of  her  poor  old  muther,  who  (the  man  in 
black  close  obsarved)  was  between  87  years  of  age  &  had  to  do 
all  the  cookin  &  washin  for  25  hired  men,  whitch  it  was  rap- 
idly breakin  down  her  konstitushun.  He  sed  he  knowed  the 
minit  he  gazed  onto  my  klassic  &  beneverlunt  fase  that  I'd 
donate  librully  &  axed  me  to  go  over  £  see  her,  which  I  accor- 
dinly  did.  I  sot  down  beside  her  and  sed  "  yure  Sarvant, 
Marm  !  How  do  yer  git  along  ?  " 

She  bust  in  2  teers  &  said,  "  O  Sur,  I'm  so  retchid  —  I'm  a 
poor  unfortunit  Octoroon." 

"  So  I  larn.     Yure  rather  more  Roon  than  Octo,  I  take  it," 


46  THE  OCTOROON. 

sed  I,  fur  I  never  seed  a  puttier  gal  in  the  hull  endoorin  time 
of  my  life.  She  had  on  a  More  Antic  Barsk  &  a  Poplin 
Nubier  with  Berage  trimmins  onto  it,  while  her  Ise  &  kurls 
was  enuff  to  make  a  man  jump  into  a  mill  pond  without  bicldin 
his  relashuns  good-by.  I  pittid  the  Octoroon  from  the  inmost 
recusses  of  my  hart  &  hawled  out  50  dollars  ker  slap,  &  told  her 
to  buy  her  old  muther  as  soon  as  posserbul.  Sez  she  "  kine  sir 
mutch  thanks."  She  then  lade  her  hed  over  onto  my  showlder 
&  sed  I  was  "  old  rats."  I  was  astonished  to  heer  this  obsar- 
vation,  which  I  knowd  was  never  used  in  refined  society  &  I 
perlitely  but  emfattercly  shovd  her  hed  away. 

Sez  I  "  Marm,  I'm  trooly  sirprized." 

Sez  she,  "  git  out.  Yure  the  nicist  old  man  Ive  seen  yit. 
Give  us  aiiuther  50  !  "  Had  a  seleck  assortment  of  the  most 
tremenjious  thunderbolts  descended  down  onto  me  I  couldn't 
hav  bin  more  takin  aback.  I  jumpt  up,  but  she  ceased  my  coat 
tales  &  in  a  wild  voise  cride,  t(  No,  He  never  desart  you  —  let 
us  fli  together  to  a  f urrin  shoor !  " 

Sez  I,  "  not  mutch  we  wont,"  and  I  made  a  powerful  effort  to 
get  awa  from  her.  "  This  is  plade  out,"  I  sed,  whereupon  she 
jerkt  me  back  into  the  seet.  "  Leggo  my  coat,  you  scandaluss 
female,"  I  roared,  when  she  set  up  the  most  unarthly  yellin 
and  hollerin  you  ever  heerd.  The  passinjers  &  the  gentlemunly 
konducter  rusht  to  the  spot,  &  I  don't  think  I  ever  experiunsed 
sich  a  rumpus  in  the  hull  coarse  of  my  natral  dase.  The  man 
in  black  close  rusht  up  to  me  &  sed  "  How  dair  yu  insult  my 
neece,  you  horey  heded  vugabone.  You  base  exhibbiter  of  low 
wax  figgers  —  yu  woolf  in  sheep's  close,"  &  sow  4th. 

I  was  konfoozed.  I  was  a  loonytick  fur  the  time  bein,  and 
offered  $5  reward  to  enny  gentleman  of  good  inorrul  carracter 
who  wood  tell  me  whot  my  name  was  &  what  town  I  livd  into. 
The  konductor  kum  to  me  &  sed  the  insultid  parties  wood  settle 
for  §50,  which  I  immejitly  hawled  out,  &,  agane  implored  sum- 
buddy  to  state  whare  I  was  piiiisipully,  &  if  I  shood  be  thare 
a  grate  while  myself  ef  things  went  on  as  they'd  bin  goin  fur 
sum  time  back.  I  then  axed  if  there  was  enny  more  Octoroons 


OBERLIN.  47 

present,  "  becawz,"  sez  I  "  ef  there  is,  let  urn  cum  along,  fur 
Ime  in  the  Octoroon  bizniss."  I  then  threw  my  specterculs  out 
of  the  winder,  smasht  my  hat  wildly  down  over  my  Ise,  larfed 
highsterically  &  fell  under  a  seet.  I  lay  there  sum  time  &  fall 
asleep.  I  dreamt  Mrs.  Ward  &  the  twins  had  bin  carrid  orf  by 
Ryenosserhosses  &  that  Baldinsville  had  bin  captered  by  a  army 
of  Octoroons.  When  I  awoked  the  lamps  was  a  burnin  dimly. 
Sum  of  the  passinjers  was  a  snorein  like  pawpusses  &  the  little 
damsell  in  the  pine  gown  was  a  singin  "  Oft  in  the  Silly  nite." 
The  onprinsipuld  Octoroon  &  the  miserbul  man  in  black  close 
was  gone,  &  all  of  a  suddent  it  flasht  ore  my  brane  that  I'de 
bin  swindild. 


OBERLIN. 

ABOUT  two  years  ago  I  arrove  in  Oberlin,  Ohio.  Oberlin  is 
whare  the  celebrated  college  is.  In  fack,  Oberlin  is  the  college, 
everything  else  in  that  air  vicinity  resolvin  around  excloosivly 
for  the  benefit  of  that  institution.  It  is  a  very  good  college, 
too,  <fe  a  grate  many  wurthy  yung  men  go  there  annooally  to  git 
intelleck  into  'em.  But  its  my  onbiassed  'pinion  that  they  go 
it  rather  too  strong  on  Ethiopians  at  Oberlin.  But  that's  nun 
of  my  bizness.  I'm  into  the  Show  bizniss.  Yit  as  a  faithful 
historan  I  must  menshun  the  fack  that  on  rainy  dase  white  pe- 
ple  can't  find  their  way  threw  the  streets  without  the  gas  is  lit, 
there  bein  such  a  numerosity  of  cullerd  pussons  in  the  town. 

As  I  was  sayin,  I  arroved  at  Oberlin,  and  called  on  Perfes- 
ser  Peck  for  the  purpuss  of  skewerin  Kolonial  Hall  to  exhibit 
my  wax  works  and  beests  of  Pray  into.  Kolonial  Hall  is  in 
the  college  and  is  used  by  the  stujents  to  speak  peaces  and  read 
essays  into. 

Sez  Perfesser  Peck,  "  Mister  Ward,  I  don't  know  'bout  this 
bizniss.  What  are  your  sentiments  ?  " 


48  OBEELIN. 

Sez  I,  "  I  hain't  got  any." 

((  Good  God !  "  cried  the  Perfesser,  "  did  I  understan  you  to 
say  you  hav  no  sentiments  ?  " 

<c  Nary  a  sentiment !  "  sez  I. 

"  Mister  Ward,  don't  your  blud  bile  at  the  thawt  that  three 
million  and  a  half  of  your  culled  brethren  air  a  clankin  their 
chains  in  the  South  ?  " 

Sez  I,  "  not  a  bile !   Let  'em  clank  !  " 

He  was  about  to  continner  his  flowry  speech  when  I  put  a 
stopper  on  him.  Sez  I,  ll  Perfesser  Peck,  A.  Ward  is  my  name 
&  Ameriky  is  my  nushun  ;  I'm  allers  the  same,  tho'  humble  is 
my  station,  and  I've  bin  in  the  show  bizniss  goin  on  22  years. 
The  pint  is,  can  I  hav  your  Hall  by  payin  a  fair  price  ?  You 
air  full  of  sentiments.  That's  your  lay,  while  I'm  a  exhibiter 
of  startlin  curiosities.  What  d'ye  say  ?  " 

"  Mister  Ward,  you  air  endowed  with  a  hily  practical  mind, 
and  while  I  deeply  regret  that  you  air  devoid  of  sentiments, 
I'll  let  you  hav  the  hall  provided  your  exhibition  is  of  a  moral 
&  elevatin  nater." 

Sez  I,    "  Taiii't  nothin  shorter." 

So  I  opened  in  Kolonial  Hall,  which  was  crowded  every  nite 
with  stujents,  &c.  Perfesser  Finny  gazed  for  hours  at  my  Kan- 
garoo, but  when  that  sagashus  but  onprincipled  little  cuss  set 
up  one  of  his  onarthly  yellins  and  I  proceeded  to  hosswhip 
him,  the  Perfesser  objected.  "  Suffer  not  your  angry  pashuns 
to  rise  up  at  the  poor  anniniil's  little  excentrissities,"  said  the 
Perfesser. 

"  Do  you  call  such  conduck  as  those  a  little  excentrissity  ?  " 
I  axed. 

"  I  do,"  sed  he ;  sayin  which  he  walked  up  to  the  cage  and 
sez  he,  "  let's  try  moral  swashun  upon  the  poor  creeter."  So 
he  put  his  hand  upon  the  Kangeroo's  lied  and  sed,  "  poor  little 
feller  —  poor  little  feller  —  your  master  is  very  crooil,  isn't  he, 
my  untootered  frend,"  when  the  Kangaroo,  with  a  terrific  yell, 
grabd  the  Perfesser  by  the  hand  and  cum  very  near  chawiii  it 
orf.  It  was  amooziii  to  see  the  Perfesser  jump  up  and  scream 


THE  SHOWMAN'S  COURTSHIP.  49 

with  pane.  Sez  I,  "  that's  one  of  the  poor  little  feller's  excen- 
trissities !  " 

Sez  he,  "  Mister  Ward,  that's  a  dangerous  quadruped.  He's 
totally  depraved.  I  will  retire  and  do  my  lasserated  hand  up 
in  a  rag,  and  meanwhile  I  request  you  to  meat  out  summery 
and  severe  punishment  to  the  vishus  beest."  I  hosswhipt  the 
little  cuss  for  upwards  15  minutes.  Guess  I  licked  sum  of  his 
excentrissity  out  of  him. 

Oberlin  is  a  grate  plase.  The  College  opens  with  a  prayer 
and  then  the  New  York  Tribune  is  read.  A  kolleckshun  is 
then  taken  up  to  buy  overkoats  with  red  horn  buttons  onto 
them  for  the  indignant  cul  lured  people  of  Kanady.  I  have  to 
contribit  librally  two  the  glowrius  work,  as  they  kawl  it  hear. 
I'm  kompelled  by  the  Fackulty  to  reserve  front  seets  in  my 
show  for  the  cullered  peple.  At  the  Boardin  House  the  cul- 
lered  peple  sit  at  the  first  table.  What  they  leeve  is  maid  into 
hash  for  the  white  peple.  As  I  don't  like  the  idee  of  eatin  my 
vittles  with  Ethiopians,  I  sit  at  the  seckind  table,  and  the  kon- 
sequence  is  I've  devowered  so  much  hash  that  my  inards  is  in 
a  hily  mixt  up  condishun.  Fish  bones  hav  maid  their  appear- 
ance all  over  my  bodcly  and  pertater  peelins  air  a  springin  up 
through  my  hair.  Howsever  I  don't  mind  it.  I'm  gittin  along 
well  in  a  pecunery  pint  of  view.  The  College  has  konfired  upon 
me  the  honery  title  of  T.  K.,  of  which  I'm  suffishuntly  prowd. 


THE  SHOWMAN'S  COURTSHIP. 

THARE  was  many  affectin  ties  which  made  me  hanker  arter 
Betsy  Jane.  Her  father's  farm  jined  our'n  ;  their  cows  and 
our'n  squencht  their  thurst  at  the  same  spring ;  our  old  mares 
both  had  stars  in  their  forreds  ;  the  measles  broke  out  in  both 
famerlies  at  nearly  the  same  period ;  our  parients  (Betsy's  and 
3 


50  THE  SHOWMAN'S  COURTSHIP. 

mine)  slept  reglarly  every  Sunday  in  the  same  meetin  house, 
and  the  nabers  used  to  obsarve,  "  How  thick  the  Wards  and 
Peasleys  air  !  "  It  was  a  surblime  site,  in  the  Spring  of  the 
year,  to  see  our  sevral  mothers  (Betsy's  and  mine)  with  their 
gowns  pin'd  up  so  thay  couldn't  sile  'em,  affecshunitly  Bilin 
sope  together  &  aboozin  the  nabers. 

Altho  I  hankerd  intensly  arter  the  objeck  of  my  affecshuns, 
I  darsunt  tell  her  of  the  fires  which  was  raj  in  in  my  manly 
Buzzum.  I'd  try  to  do  it  but  my  tung  would  kerwollup  up 
agin  the  roof  of  my  mowth  &  stick  thar,  like  deth  to  a  deseast 
Afrikan  or  a  country  postmaster  to  his  offiss,  while  my  hart 
whanged  agin  my  ribs  like  a  old  fashioned  wheat  Male  agin  a 
barn  floor. 

'Twas  a  carm  still  nite  in  Joon.  All  nater  was  Imsht  and 
nary  a  zeffer  disturbed  the  sereen  silens.  I  sot  with  Betsy 
Jane  on  the  fense  of  her  farther's  pastur.  We'd  bin  rompin 
threw  the  woods,  kullin  flours  &  drivin  the  woodchuck  from 
his  Nativ  Lair  (so  to  speak)  with  long  sticks.  Wall,  we  sot 
thar  on  the  fense,  a  swingin  our  feet  two  and  fro,  blushin  as 
red  as  the  Baldinsville  skool  house  when  it  was  fust  painted,  and 
lookin  very  simple,  I  make  no  doubt.  My  left  arm  was  ocke- 
pied  in  ballunsin  myself  on  the  fense,  while  my  rite  was 
woundid  luvinly  round  her  waste. 

I  cleared  my  throat  and  tremblinly  sed,  "  Betsy,  you're  a 
Gazelle." 

I  thought  that  air  was  putty  fine.  I  waitid  to  see  what 
eflfeck  it  would  hav  upon  her.  It  evidently  didn't  fetch  her, 
for  she  up  and  sed, 

"You're  a  sheep!" 

Sez  I,  "  Betsy,  I  think  very  muchly  of  you." 

"  I  don't  b'leeve  a  word  you  say — so  there  now  cum !" 
with  which  obsarvashun  she  hitched  away  from  me. 

"  I  wish  thar  was  winders  to  my  Sole,"  sed  I,  u  so  that  you 
could  see  some  of  my  feelins.  There's  fire  enuff  in  here,"  sed 
I,  strikin  my  buzzum  with  my  fist,  "to  bile  all  the  corn  beef 


THE  SHOWMAN'S  COURTSHIP.  51 

and  turnips  in  the  naberhood.    Versoovius  and  the  Critter  ain't 
a  circumstans  !  " 

She  bowd  her  hed  down  and  commenst  chawin  the  strings 
to  her  sun  bonnet. 

"  Ar  could  you  know  the  sleeplis  nites  I  worry  threw  with 
on  your  account,  how  vittles  has  seized  to  be  attractiv  to  me 
&  how  my  lims  has  shrunk  up,  you  wouldn't  dowt  me. 
Gase  on  this  wastin  form  and  these  'ere  sunken  cheeks  "  — 

I  should  have  continnered  on  in  this  strane  probly  for  sum 
time,  but  uiifortnitly  I  lost  my  ballunse  and  fell  over  into  the 
pastur  ker  smash,  tearin  my  close  and  seveerly  damagin  myself 
generally. 

Betsy  Jane  sprung  to  my  assistance  in  dubble  quick  time 
and  dragged  me  4th.  Then  drawin  herself  up  to  her  full  hite 
she  sed : 

"  I  won't  listen  to  your  noncents  no  longer.  Jes  say  rite 
strate  out  what  you're  drivin  at.  If  you  mean  gettin  hitched, 
I'M  ix !  " 

I  considered  that  air  enuff  for  all  practicul  purpusses,  and 
we  proceeded  immejitely  to  the  parson's,  <fe  was  made  1  that 
very  nite. 

(Notiss  to  the  Printer :    Put  some  stars  here.) 
******** 

I've  parst  threw  many  tryin  ordeels  sins  then,  but  Betsy 
Jane  has  bin  troo  as  steel.  By  attendin  strickly  to  bizniss 
Iv'e  amarsed  a  handsum  Pittance.  No  man  on  this  foot-stool 
can  rise  &  git  up  &  say  I  ever  knowinly  injered  no  man  or 
wimmin  folks,  while  all  agree  that  my  Show  is  ekalled  by  few 
and  exceld  by  none,  embracin  as  it  does  a  wonderful  colleck- 
shun  of  livin  wild  Bee.sts  of  Pray,  snaix  in  grate  profushun,  a 
endliss  variety  of  life-size  wax  figgirs,  &  the  only  trailed  kan- 
garoo in  Ameriky  —  the  most  amoozin  little  cuss  ever  intro- 
juced  to  a  discriminatin  public. 


52  THE  CRISIS. 

THE  CRISIS. 

[This  Oration  was  delivered  before  the  commencement  of  the  war.] 

Ox  returnin  to  my  humsted  in  Baldinsville,  Injianny,  re- 
suntly,  my  feller  sitterzens  extended  a  invite  for  me  to  norate 
to  'em  on  the  Krysis.  I  excepted  &  on  larst  Toosday  nite  I 
peared  be4  a  C  of  upturned  faces  in  the  Red  Skool  House.  I 
spoke  nearly  as  follers  : 

Baldinsvillins :  Hearto4,  as  I  hav  numerously  obsarved,  I 
have  abstrained  from  having  any  sentimunts  or  principles,  my 
pollertics,  like  my  religion,  bein  of  a  exceedin  accommodatiii 
character.  But  the  fack  can't  be  no  longer  disgised  that  a 
Krysis  is  onto  us,  &  I  feel  it's  my  dooty  to  accept  your  in- 
vite for  one  consecutive  nite  only.  I  spose  the  inflammertory 
individooals  who  assisted  in  projucing  this  Krysis  know  what 
good  she  will  do,  but  I  ain't  'shamed  to  state  that  I  don't, 
scacely.  But  the  Krysis  is  hear.  She's  bin  hear  for  sevral 
weeks,  &  Goodness  nose  how  long  she'll  stay.  But  I  venter 
to  assert  that  she's  rippiii  things.  She's  knockt  trade  into  a 
cockt  up  hat  and  chaned  Bizness  of  all  kinds  tighter  nor  I  ever 
chaned  any  of  my  livin  wild  Beests.  Alow  me  to  hear  dy- 
gress  &  stait  that  my  Beests  at  presnt  is  as  harmless  as  the  new- 
born Babe.  I^adys  &  gentlemen  needn't  hav  no  fears  on  that 
pint.  To  resoom — Altho  I  can't  exactly  see  what  good  this  Kry- 
sis can  do,  I  can  very  quick  say  what  the  origernal  cawz  of  her 
is.  The  origernal  cawz  is  Our  Afrikaii  Brother.  I  was  into  BAK- 
NIM'S  Moozeum  down  to  New  York  the  other  day  &  saw  that 
exseutric  Etheopian,  the  What  Is  It.  Sez  I,  "  Mister  What  Is 
It,  you  folks  air  raisin  thunder  with  this  grate  country. 
You're  gettin  to  be  ruther  more  numeris  than  interestin.  It 
is  a  pity  you  coodent  go  orf  sumwhares  by  yourselves,  &""be  a 
nation  of  What  Is  Its,  tho'  if  you'll  excoose  me,  I  shoodeii't 
care  about  ruarrym  among  you.  No  dowt  you're  exceedin 
charmin  to  hum,  but  your  stile  of  luvliness  isn't  adapted  to 


"  SHALL  THE  STAR  SpANGLEr   BANNER  BE  CUT  UP  INTO  DISH 
LOTUS?"     [See  Page  52.] 


THE  CRISIS.  53 

this  cold  climit.  He  larfecl  into  my  face,  v/hich  rather  Riled 
me,  as  I  had  been  perfeckly  virtoous  and  respectable  in  my  ob- 
servashuns.  So  sez  I,  turn  in  a  leetle  red  in  the  face,  I  spect, 
"Do  you  hav  the  unblushin  impoodents  to  say  you  folks 
haven't  raised  a  big  mess  of  thunder  in  this  brite  land,  Mister 
Y»  bat  Is  It  ?  "  He  larfed  agin,  wusser  nor  be4,  whareupon  I 
up  and  sez,  "  Go  home,  Sir,  "to  Afriky's  burnin  shores  &  taik 
all  the  other  What  Is  Its  along  with  you.  Don't  think  we  can 
spair  your  interestin  picters.  You  What  Is  Its  air  on  the  pint 
of  smashin  up  the  gratest  Guv'ment  ever  erected  by  man,  & 
you  actooally  hav  the  owdassity  to  larf  about  it.  Go  home, 
you  low  cuss  !  " 

I  was  workt  up  to  a  high  pitch,  <fe  I  proceeded  to  a  Restora- 
tor  &  cooled  orf  with  some  little  fishes  biled  in  ile  —  I  b'leeve 
thay  call  'em  sardeens. 

Feller  Sitterzuns,  the  Afrikan  may  be  Our  Brother.  Sev- 
ral hily  respectyble  gentlemen,  and  sum  talentid  females  tell  us 
so,  &  fur  argyment's  sake  I  mite  be  injooced  to  grant  it,  tho'  I 
don't  beleeve  it  myself.  But  the  Afrikan  isn't  our  sister  & 
our  wife  &  our  uncle.  He  isn't  sevral  of  our  brothers  &  all 
our  fust  wife's  relashuns.  He  isn't  our  grandfather,  and  our 
grate  grandfather,  and  our  Aunt  in  the  country.  Scacely.  & 
yit  numeris  persons  would  have  us  think  so.  It's  troo  he  runs 
Congress  &  sevral  other  public  grosserys,  but  then  he  ain't 
everybody  &  everybody  else  likewise.  [Nbtiss  to  bizness  men 
of  VANITY  FAIR  :  Extry  charg  fur  this  larst  remark.  It's  a 
goak.— A.  W.] 

But  we've  got  the  Afrikan,  or  rather  he's  got  us,  &  now 
what  air  we  going  to  do  about  it?  He's  a  orful  noosanse. 
Praps  he  isn't  to  blame  fur  it.  Praps  he  was  creatid  fur  sum 
wise  purpuss,  like  the  measles  and  New  Englan  Rum,  but 
it's  mity  hard  to  see  it.  At  any  rate  he's  no  good  here,  &  as  I 
statid  to  Mister  What  Is  It,  it's  a  pity  he  cooden't  go  orf  sum- 
whares  quietly  by  hisself,  whare  he  cood  wear  red  weskits  & 
speckled  neckties,  &  gratterfy  his  ambishun  in  varis  interestin 
wase,  without  havin  a  eternal  fuss  kickt  up  about  him. 


54:  THE  CRISIS. 

Praps  I'm  bearin  down  too  hard  upon  Cuffy.  '  Cum  to  think 
on  it,  I  am.  Pie  woodn't  be  sich  a  infernal  noosanse  if  white 
peple  would  let  him  alone.  He  mite  indeed  be  interestin. 
And  now  I  think  of  it,  why  can't  the  white  peple  let  him 
alone.  What's  the  good  of  continnerly  stirrin  him  up  with  a 
ten-foot  pole?  He  isn't  the  sweetest  kind  of  Perfoomery 
when  in  a  natral  stait. 

Feller  Sitterzens,  the  Union's  in  danger.  The  black  devil 
Disunion  is  trooly  here,  starein  us  all  squarely  in  the  face  ! 
We  must  drive  him  back.  Shall  we  make  a  2nd  Mexico  of 
ourselves  ?  Shall  we  sell  our  birthrite  for  a  mess  of  potash  ? 
Shall  one  brother  put  the  knife  to  the  throat  of  anuther 
brother  ?  Shall  we  mix  our  whisky  with  each  other's  blud  ? 
Shall  the  star  spangled  Banner  be  cut  up  into  dishcloths  ? 
Standin  here  in  this  here  Skoolhouse,  upon  my  nativ  shore  so 
to  speak,  I  anser  —  Nary  ! 

Oh  you  fellers  who  air  raisin  this  row,  &  who  in  the  fust 
place  startid  it,  I'm  'shamed  of  you.  The  Showman  blushes 
for  you,  from  his  boots  to  the  topmost  hair  upon  his  wenerable 
hed. 

Teller  Sitterzens :  I  am  in  the  Sheer  &  Yeller  leaf.  I  shall 
peg  out  1  of  these  dase.  But  while  I  xlo  stop  here  I  shall  stay 
in  the  Union.  I  know  not  what  the  supervizers  of  Baldins- 
ville  may  conclude  to  do,  but  for  one,  I  shall  stand  by  the 
Stars  &  Stripes.  Under  no  circumstances  whatsomever  will 
I  sesesh.  Let  every  Stait  in  the  Union  sesesh  &  let  Palmetter 
flags  flote  thicker  nor  shirts  on  Square  Baxter's  close  line,  still 
will  I  stick  to  the  good  old  flag.  The  country  may  go  to  the 
devil,  but  I  won't !  And  next  Summer  when  I  start  out  on 
my  campane  with  my  Show,  wharever  I  pitch  my  little  tent, 
you  shall  see  floatiii  prowdly  from  the  center  pole  thereof  the 
Amerikan  Flag,  with  nary  a  star  wiped  out,  nary  a  stripe  less, 
but  the  same  old  flag  that  has  allers  flotid  thai* !  &  the  price  of 
admishun  will  be  the  same  it  allers  was  —  15  cents,  children 
half  price. 

Feller  Sitterzens,  I  am  dun.     Accordinly  I  squatted. 


WAX  FIGURES  VS.   SHAKSPEARE.  55 

WAX  FIGURES  YS.  SHAKSPEAEE. 

ONTO  THE  WING 1859. 

MR.  EDITOR: 

I  TAKE  my  Pen  in  hand  to  inform  yu  that  I'm  in  good  helth 
and  trust  these  few  lines  will  find  yu  injoyin  the  same  blessins. 
I  wood  also  state  that  I'm  now  on  the  summir  kampane.  As 
the  Poit  sez  — 

ime  erflote,  ime  erflote 

On  the  Swift  rollin  tied 

An  the  Rovir  is  free. 

Bizness  is  scacely  middlin,  but  Sirs  I  manige  to  pay  for  my 
foode  and  raiment  puncktooally  and  without  no  grumblin.  The 
barked  arrers  of  slandur  has  bin  leviled  at  theTindersined  moren 
onct  sins  heze  bin  into  the  show  bizness,  but  I  make  bold  to  say 
no  man  on  this  footstule  kan  troothfully  say  I  ever  ronged  him 
or  eny  of  his  folks.  I'm  travelin  with  a  tent,  which  is  better 
nor  hirin  hauls.  My  show  konsists  of  a  serious  of  wax  works, 
snakes,  a  paneramy  kalled  a  Grand  Movin  Diarea  of  the  "War 
in  the  Cryinear,  komic  songs  and  the  Cangeroo,  which  larst 
little  cuss  continners  to  konduct  hisself  in  the  most  outrajus 
stile.  I  started  out  with  the  idear  of  makin  my  show  a  grate 
Moral  Entertainment,  but  I'm  kompeled  to  sware  so  much  at 
that  air  infumal  Kangeroo  that  I'm  frade  this  desine  will  be 
flustratid  to  some  extent.  And  while  speakin  of  morrality, 
remines  me  that  sum  folks  turn  up  their  nosis  at  shows  like 
mine,  sayiii  they  is  low  and  not  fit  to  be  patrernized  by  peple 
of  high  degree.  Sirs,  I  manetane  that  this  is  infernul  non- 
sense. I  manetane  that  wax  figgers  is  more  elevatin  than  awl 
the  plays  ever  wroten.  Take  Shakespeer  for  instunse.  Peple 
think  heze  grate  things,  but  I  kontend  heze  quite  the  reverse 
to  the  kontrary.  What  sort  of  sense  is  thare  to  King  Leer, 
who  goze  round  cussin  his  darters,  chawin  hay  and  throin  straw 
at  folks,  and  larfin  like  a  silly  old  koot  and  makin  a  ass  of  his- 


56  WAX  FIGURES  VS.   SHAKSPEARE. 

self  ginerally  ?  Thare's  Mrs.  Mackbeth  —  slieze  a  iiise  kind  of 
woornon  to  have  round  ain't  she,  a  puttiii  old  Mack,  her  hus- 
band, up  to  slayin  Dunkan  \rith  a  cheeze  knife,  while  heze 
payin  a  frendly  visit  to  their  house.  O  its  hily  morral,  I 
spoze,  when  she  larfs  wildly  and  sez,  "  gin  me  the  daggiirs  — 
lie  let  his  bowels  out,"  or  wurds  to  that  effeck  —  1  say,  this  is 
awl  strickly  propper  I  spoze  ?  That  Jack  Fawlstarf  is  like- 
wise a  immoral  old  cuss,  take  him  how  ye  may,  and  Hamlick  is 
as  crazy  as  a  loon.  Thare's  Bichurd  the  Three  peple  think 
heze  grate  things,  but  I  look  upon  him  in  the  lite  of  a  moiik- 
ster.  He  kills  everybody  he  takes  a  noshun  to  in  kold  blud, 
and  then  goze  to  sleep  in  his  tent.  Bimeby  he  wakes  up  and 
yells  for  a  hoss  so  he  kan  go  orf  and  kill  sum  more  peple.  If 
he  isent  a  fit  spesserman  for  the  gallers  then  I  shood  like  to 
know  whare  you  find  um.  Thare's  largo  who  is  more  ornery 
nor  pizun.  See  how  shamful  he  treated  that  hily  respecterble 
injun  gentlemun,  Mister  Otheller,  makin  him  for  to  beleeve  his 
wife  was  too  thick  with  Casheo.  Obsarve  how  largo  got 
Casheo  drunk  as  a  biled  owl  on  corn  whiskey  in  order  to  karry 
out  his  sneekin  desines.  See  how  he  wurks  Mister  Otheller's 
feelins  up  so  that  he  goze  and  makes  poor  Desdemony  swallcr 
a  piller  which  cawses  her  deth.  But  I  must  stop.  At  sum 
futur  time  I  shall  continner  my  remarks  on  the  dramer  in 
which  I  shall  show  the  varst  supeeriority  of  wax  figgers  and 
snakes  over  theater  plays,  in  a  interlectooal  pint  of  view. 

Very  Respectively  yures, 

A.  WARD,  T.  K. 


AMONG  THE  FREE  LOVERS.  57 


AMONG  THE  FREE   LOVERS.* 

SOME  years  ago  I  pitched  my  tent  and  onfurled  nay  banner 
to  the  breeze,  in  Berlin  Hites,  Ohio.  I  had  hearn  that  Berlin 
Hites  was  ockepied  by  a  extensive  seek  called  Free  Lovers, 
who  beleeved  in  affinertys  and  sich,  goin  back  on  their  domes- 
tic ties  without  110  hesitation  whatsomever.  They  was  like- 
wise spirit  rappers  and  high  presher  reformers  on  gineral  prin- 
ciples. If  I  can  improve  these  'ere  misgided  peple  by  showin 
them  my  onparalleld  show  at  the  usual  low  price  of  admitaiits, 
methunk,  I  shall  not  hav  lived  in.  vane.  But  bitterly  did  I 
cuss  the  day  I  ever  sot  foot  in  the  retchid  place.  I  sot  up  my 
tent  in  a  field  near  the  Love  Cure,  as  they  called  it,  and  bimeby 
the  free  lovers  begun  for  to  congregate  around  the  door.  A 
ornreer  set  I  have  never  sawn.  The  men's  faces  was  all  cov- 
ered with  hare  and  they  lookt  half-starved  to  deth.  They 
didn't  wear  no  weskuts  for  the  purpose  (as  they  sed)  of  allowin 
the  free  air  of  hevun  to  blow  onto  their  boozums.  Their  pock- 
ets was  filled  with  tracks  and  pamplits  and  they  was  bare-footed. 
They  sed  the  Postles  didn't  wear  boots,  &  why  should  they  ? 
That  was  their  stile  of  argyment.  The  wimin  was  wuss  than 
the  men.  They  wore  trowsis,  short  gownds,  straw  hats  with 
green  ribbins,  and  all  carried  bloo  cotton  umbrellers. 

Presently  a  perfeckly  orful  lookin  female  presented  herself 
at  the  door.  Her  gownd  was  skanderlusly  short  and  her  trow- 
sis was  shameful  to  behold. 

She  eyed  me  over  very  sharp,  and  then  startin  back  she  sed, 
in  a  wild  voice : 

"Ah,  can  it  be?" 

"  Which  ?  "  sed  I. 


*  Some  queer  people,  calling  themselves  "Free  Lovers,"  and  possessing  very  original 
ideas  about  life  and  morality,  established  themselves  at  Berlin  Heights,  in  Ohio,  a  few- 
years  since.  Public  opinion  was  resistlessly  against  them,  however,  and  the  association 
was  soon  disbanded. 

3* 


58  A310NG   THE  FREE  LOVERS. 

"  Yes,  'tis  troo,  O  'tis  troo !  " 

"  15  cents,  inarm,"  I  anscrd. 

She  bust  out  a  cryin  &  sed : 

"  And  so  I  hav  found  you  at  larst  —  at  larst,  O  at  larst !  " 

"  Yes,"  I  anserd,  "  you  hav  found  me  at  larst,  and  you  would 
hav  found  me  at  fust,  if  you  had  cum  sooner." 

She  grabd  me  vilently  by  the  coat  collar,  and  brand  ishin  her 
umbreller  wildly  round,  exclaimed : 

"  Air  you  a  man  ?  " 

Sez  I,  l{  I  think  I  air,  but  if  you  doubt  it,  you  can  address 
Mrs.  A.  Ward,  Baldinsville,  Injianny,  postage  pade,  &  she  will 
probly  giv  you  the  desired  informashun." 

"  Then  thou  ist  what  the  cold  world  calls  marrid  ?  " 

"  Madam,  I  istest !  " 

The  exsentric  female  then  clutched  me  fianticly  by  the 
arm  and  hollered  : 

"  You  air  mine,  O  you  air  mine !  " 

"  Scacely,"  I  sed,  endeverin  to  git  loose  from  her.  But  she 
clung  to  me  and  sed  : 

"  You  air  my  Affinerty !  " 

"  What  upon  arth  is  that  ?  "  T  shouted. 

"  Dost  thou  not  know  ?  " 

«  No,  I  dostent !  " 

fl  Listin  man,  &  I'll  tell  ye !  "  sed  the  strange  female ;  "  for 
years  I  hav  yearned  for  thee.  I  knowd  thou  wast  in  the 
world,  sumwhares,  tho  I  didn't  know  whare.  My  hart  sed  he 
would  cum  and  I  took  courage.  He  has  cum  —  he's  here  — 
you  air  him  —  you  air  my  Affinerty  !  O  'tis  too  mutch !  too 
mutch ! "  and  she  sobbed  agin. 

"  Yes,"  I  anserd,  "  I  think  it  is  a  darn  site  too  mutch  !  " 

"Hast  thou  not  yearned  for  me?"  she  yelled,  ringin  her 
hands  like  a  female  play  acter. 

"  Not  a  yearn  !  "  I  bellerd  at  the  top  of  my  voice,  thro  win 
her  away  from  me. 

The  free  lovers  who  was  standin  round  obsarvin  the  scene 


A   VISIT  TO  BRIGHAM  YOUNG.  59 

commenst  for  to  holler  "  shame  !  "  <c  beast,"  etsettery,  etset- 
tery. 

I  was  very  mutch  riled,  and  fortifyin  myself  with  a  spare 
tent  stake,  I  addrest  them  as  f oilers :  "  You  pussylanermus 
critters,  go  way  from  me  and  take  this  retchid  woman  with 
you.  I'm  a  law-abidin  man,  and  beleeve  in  good,  old-fashioned 
institutions.  I  am  marrid  &  my  orfsprings  resemble  me  if  I 
am  I  showman  !  I  think  your  Affinity  bizniss  is  cussed  non- 
cents,  besides  bein  outrajusly  wicked.  Why  don't  you  behave 
desunt  like  other  folks  ?  Go  to  work  and  earn  a  honist  livin 
ftnd  not  stay  round  here  in  this  lazy,  shiftless  way,  pizenin  the 
moral  atmosphere  with  your  pestifrous  idees!  You  wimin 
folks  go  back  to  your  lawful  husbands  if  you've  got  any,  and 
take  orf  them  skanderlous  gownds  and  trowsis,  and  dress  re- 
spectful like  other  wimin.  You  men  folks,  cut  orf  them  pirat- 
tercal  whiskers,  burn  up  them  infiirnel  pamplits,  put  sum  wes- 
kuts  on,  go  to  work  choppin  wood,  splittin  fence  rales,  or  tillin 
the  sile.  I  pored  4th  my  indignashun  in  this  way  till  I  got  out 
of  breth,  when  I  stopt.  I  shant  go  to  Berlin  Hites  agin,  not 
if  I  live  to  be  as  old  as  Methooseler. 


A  VISIT  TO   BBIGHAM   YOUNG. 

IT  is  now  goin  on  2  (too)  yeres,  as  I  very  well  remember, 
since  I  crossed  the  Planes  for  Kaliforny,  the  Brite  land  of 
Jold.  While  crossin  the  Planes  all  so  bold  I  fell  in  with  sum 
noble  red  men  of  the  forest  (X.  B.  This  is  rote  Sarcas- 
ticul.  In]  ins  is  Pizin,  whar  ever  found,)  which  thay  Sed  I 
was  their  Brother,  &  wanted  for  to  smoke  the  Calomel  of  Peace 
with  me.  Thay  then  stole  my  jerkt  beef,  blankits,  etsettery, 
skalpt  my  orgin  grinder  &  scooted  with  a  Wild  Hoop.  Durin 
the  Cheaf  s  techin  speech  he  sed  he  shood  meet  me  in  the 


60  A    VISIT  TO  BRIGHAM  YOUNG. 

Happy  Huntin  Grounds.  If  he  duz  thare  will  be  a  fite.  But' 
enuff  of  this  ere.  Heven  Noose  Muttons,  as  our  skoolmaster, 
who  has  got  Talent  into  him,  ciissycally  obsarve. 

I  arrove  at  Salt  Lake  in  doo  time.  At  Camp  Scott  there 
was  a  lot  of  U.  S.  sogers,  hosstensibly  sent  out  thare  to  smash 
the  mormons  but  really  to  eat  Salt  vittles  &  play  poker  &  other 
beautiful  but  sumwhat  onsartin  games.  I  got  acquainted  with 
sum  of  the  officers.  Thay  lookt  putty  scrumpshus  in  their 
Bloo  coats  with  brass  buttings  onto  um  &  ware  very  talented 
drinkers,  but  so  fur  as  fitin  is  consarned  I'd  willingly  put  my 
wax  figgers  agin  the  hull  party. 

My  desire  was  to  exhibit  my  grate  show  in  Salt  Lake  City, 
so  I  called  on  Brigham  Yung,  the  grate  mogull  amung  the 
mormins,  and  axed  his  permishun  to  pitch  my  tent  and  onfurl 
my  banner  to  the  jentle  breezis.  He  lookt  at  me  in  a  austeer 
manner  for  a  few  minits,  and  sed  : 

"  Do  you  bleeve  in  Solomon,  Saint  Paul,  the  immaculate- 
ness  of  the  Mormin  Church  and  the  Latter-day  Hevela- 
shuns  ?  " 

Sez  I,  "  I'm  on  it !  "  I  make  it  a  pint  to  git  along  plesunt, 
tho  I  didn't  know  what  under  the  Son  the  old  feller  was  drivin 
at.  He  sed  I  mite  show. 

"  You  air  a  marrid  man,  Mister  Yung,  I  bleeve  ?  "  sez  I, 
preparin  to  rite  him  sum  free  parsis. 

"  I  hev  eighty  wives,  Mister  Ward.     I  sertinly  am  marrid." 

"  How  do  you  like  it  as  far  as  you  hev  got  ?  "  sed  I. 

He  sed  "  middlin,"  and  axed  me  wouldn't  I  like  to  see  his 
famerly,  to  which  I  replide  that  I  wouldn't  mind  minglin  with 
the  fair  Seek  &  Barskin  in  the  winnin  smiles  of  his  interestin 
wives.  He  accordingly  tuk  me  to  his  Scareum.  The  house  is 
powerful  big  &  in  a  exceedin  large  room  was  his  wives  & 
children,  which  larst  was  squawkin  and  hollerin  enuff  to  take 
the  roof  rite  orf  the  house.  The  wimin  was  of  all  sizes  and 
ages.  Sum  was  pretty  &  sum  was  Plane  —  sum  was  helthy 
and  sum  was  on  the  Wayne  —  which  is  verses,  tho  sich  was 
not  my  intentions,  as  I  don't  'prove  of  puttin  verses  in  Froze 


A   VISIT  TO  BEIGHAM  YOUNG.  61 

rittins,  tho  ef  occashun  requires  I  can  Jerk  a  Poim  ekal  to  any 
of  them  Atlantic  Munthly  fellers. 

"  My  wives,  Mister  Ward,"  sed  Yung. 

"  Your  sarvant,  manns,"  sed  I,  as  I  sot  down  in  a  cheer  which 
a  red-heeled  female  brawt  me. 

"Besides  these  wives  you  see  here,  Mister  Ward,"  sed 
Yung,  tl  I  hav  eighty  more  in  varis  parts  of  this  consecrated 
land  which  air  Sealed  to  me." 

"  Which  ?  "  sez  I,  gittin  up  &  starin  at  him. 

«  Sealed,  Sir  !  sealed." 

"  Whare  bowts  ?  "  sez  I. 

"  I  sed,  Sir,  that  they  was  sealed  !  "  He  spoke  in  a  traggerdy 
voice. 

"  Will  they  probly  continner  on  in  that  stile  to  any  grate 
extent,  Sir  ?  "  I  axed. 

((  Sir,"  sed  he,  turnin  as  red  as  a  biled  beet,  "  don't  you 
know  that  the  rules  of  our  Church  is  that  I,  the  Profit,  may 
hev  as  meny  wives  as  I  wants  ?  " 

"  Jes  so,"  I  sed.     "  You  are  old  pie,  ain't  you  ?  " 

(t  Them  as  is  Sealed  to  me  —  that  is  to  say,  to  be  mine  when 
I  wants  um  —  air  at  present  my  sperretooul  wives,"  sed  Mis- 
ter Yung. 

((  Long  may  thay  wave ! "  sez  I,  seein  I  shood  git  into  a 
scrape  ef  I  didn't  look  out. 

In  a  privit  conversashun  with  Brigham  I  learnt  the  follerin 
fax  :  It  takes  him  six  weeks  to  kiss  his  wives.  He  don't  do 
it  only  onct  a  yere  &  sez  it  is  wuss  nor  cleanin  house.  He 
don't  pretend  to  know  his  children,  thare  is  so  many  of  um, 
tho  they  all  know  him.  He  sez  about  every  child  he  meats 
call  him  Par,  &  he  takes  it  for  grantid  it  is  so.  His  wives  air 
very  expensiv.  Thay  allers  want  suthin  &  ef  he  don't  buy  it 
for  um  thay  set  the  house  in  a  uproar.  He  sez  he  don't  have 
a  minit's  peace.  His  wives  fite  amung  theirselves  so  much 
that  he  has  bilt  a  fitin  room  for  thare  speshul  benefit,  &  when 
too  of  'em  get  into  a  row  he  has  em  turnd  loose  into  that 
place,  whare  the  dispoot  is  settled  accordin  to  the  rules  of  the 


62  .4    VISIT  TO  BRIGHAM  YOUNG. 

London  prize  ring.  Sumtimes  thay  abooz  liisself  individ- 
ooally.  Thay  hev  pulled  the  most  of  his  hair  out  at  the  roots 
&  he  wares  meny  a  horrible  scar  upon  his  body,  inflicted  with 
mop-handles,  broom-sticks,  and  sich.  Occashunly  they  git  mad 
&  scald  him  with  bilin  hot  water.  When  lie  got  eny  waze 
cranky  thay'd  shut  him  up  in  a  dark  closit,  previsly  whippin 
him  arter  the  stile  of  inutliers  when  thare  orfsprings  git  onruly. 
Sumtimes  when  he  went  in  swimmin  thay'd  go  to  the  banks  of 
the  Lake  &  steal  all  his  close,  thereby  compellin  him  to  sneek 
home  by  a  sircootius  rowt,  drest  in  the  Skanderlus  stile  of  the 
Greek  Slaiv.  "  I  find  that  the  keers  of  a  man-id  life  way  hevy 
onto  me,"  sed  the  Profit,  "  &  sumtimes  I  wish  I'd  remaned 
singel."  I  left  the  Profit  and  startid  for  the  tavern  whare  I 
put  up  to.  On  my  way  I  was  overtuk  by  a  lurge  krowd  of 
Mormons,  which  they  surroundid  me  &  statid  that  they  were 
goin  into  the  Show  free. 

"  Wall,"  sez  I,  "  ef  I  find  a  individooal  who  is  goin  round 
let  tin  folks  into  his  show  free,  I'll  let  you  know." 

"We've  had  a  Revelashun.  biddin  us  go  into  A.  Ward's 
Show  without  payin  nothin !  "  thay  showtid. 

u  Yes,"  hollered  a  lot  of  femaile  Mormonesses,  ceasin  me  by 
the  cote  tales  &  swingin  me  round  very  rapid,  "  we're  all  goin 
in  free  !  So  sez  the  E-evelashun  !  " 

"  What's  Old  Revelashun  got  to  do  with  my  show  ?  "  sez  I, 
gittin  putty  rily.  "Tell  Mister  Revelashun,"  sed  I,  drawin 
myself  up  to  my  full  hite  and  lookin  round  upon  the  ornery 
krowd  with  a  prowd  &  defiant  mean,  "  tell  Mister  Revelashun 
to  mind  his  own  bizness,  subject  only  to  the  Konstitushun  of 
the  United  States  !  " 

"  Oh  now  let  us  in,  that's  a  sweet  man,"  sed  several  femails, 
puttin  thare  arms  round  me  in  luvin  style.  "  Become  1  of  us. 
Becum  a  Preest  &  hav  wives  Sealed  to  you." 

"  Not  a  Seal !  "  sez  I,  startin  back  in  horror  at  the  idee. 

"  Oh  stay,  Sir,  stay,"  sed  a  tall,  gawnt  femaile,  ore  whoos 
hed  37  summirs  must  hev  parsd,  "  stay,  &  I'll  be  your  Jentle 
Gazelle." 


"  On     STAY.    SlR,    STAY  I"    SKD     A     TALL     GAWNT     FEMAIL.        [See 

Page  62.J 


THE  PRESS.  63 

"  Not  ef  I  know  it,  you  won't,"  sez  I.  "  Awa  you  skander- 
lus  femaile,  awa !  Go  &  and  be  a  Nunnery  ! "  TliaCs  wliat  2 
sed,  JES  so. 

" &  I"  sed  a  fat  chunky  femaile,  who  must  hev  wade  more 
than  too  hundred  Ibs.,  "  I  will  be  your  sweet  gidin  Star  !  " 

Sez  I,"  "  He -bet  two  dollers  and  a  half  you  won't !  "  Whare 
ear  I  may  Rome  He  still  be  troo  2  thee,  Oh  Betsy  Jane !  [N. 
B  Betsy  Jane  is  my  wife's  Sir  nairne.] 

;'  Wiltist  thou  not  tarry  here  in  the  promist  Land?"  sed 
several  of  the  miserabil  critters. 

"  He  see  you  all  essenshally  cussed  be  4  I  wiltist !  "  roared 
I,  as  mad  as  I  cood  be  at  thare  infernul  noncents.  I  girdid  up 
my  Lions  &  fled  the  Seen.  I  packt  up  my  duds  &  Leffc  Salt 
Lake,  which  is  a  2nd  Soddum  &  Gerinorrer,  inhabitid  by  as 
theavin  &  onprincipled  a  set  of  retchis  as  ever  drew  Breth  in 
eny  spot  on  the  Globe. 


THE   PKESS. 

I  WANT  the  editers  to  cum  to  my  Show  free  as  the  flours  of 
May,  but  I  don't  want  um  to  ride  a  free  hoss  to  deth.  Thare 
is  times  when  Patience  seizes  to  be  virtoous.  I  hev  "  in  my 
mind's  eye,  Hurrashio  "  (cotashun  from  Hamlick)  sum  editers 
in  a  sertin  town  which  shall  be  nameless,  who  air  Both  sneakin 
and  ornery.  They  cum  in  krowds  to  my  Show  and  then  axt 
me  ten  sents  a  lines  for  Puffs.  I  objectid  to  payin,  but  they  sed 
ef  I  didn't  down  with  the  dust  thay'd  wipe  my  Show  from  the 
face  of  the  earth !  Thay  sed  the  Press  was  the  Arkymediau 
Leaver  which  moved  the  wurld.  I  put  up  to  their  extorshuns 
until  thay'd  bled  me  so  I  was  a  meer  shadder,  and  left  in  dis- 
gust. 

It  was  in  a  surtin  town  in  Virginny,  the  Muther  of  Presi- 
dents &  things,  that  I  was  shaimfully  aboozed  by  a  editor  in 


64:  EDWIN  FORREST  AS  OTHELLO. 

human  form.  He  set  my  Show  up  steep  &  kalled  me  the  ur 
bane  &  gentlemunly  manajer,  but  when  I,  fur  the  purpuss  oi 
showin  fair  play  all  around,  went  to  anuther  offiss  to  git  mj 
handbills  printed,  what  duz  this  pussillanermus  editer  do  bin 
change  his  toon  &  abooze  me  like  a  Injun.  He  sed  my  was 
wurks  was  a  humbug  &  called  me  a  horey-heded  itinerem 
vagabone.  I  thort  at  fust  Ide  pollish  him  orf  ar-lar  the  Be 
neshy  Boy,  but  on  reflectin  that  he  cood  pollibh  me  much  wuss 
in  his  paper,  I  giv  it  up.  &  I  wood  here  take  oecashun  tc 
advise  peple  when  thay  run  agin,  as  thay  sumtimes  will,  these 
miserable  papers,  to  not  pay  no  attenshun  to  um.  Abuv  all 
don't  assault  a  editer  of  this  kind.  It  only  gives  him  a  noto- 
rosity,  which  is  jest  what  he  wants,  &  don't  do  you  no  more 
good  than  it  wood  to  jump  into  enny  other  mud  puddle.  Edi 
ters  are  generally  fine  men,  but  there  must  be  black  sheep  IE 
every  flock. 


EDWIN   FORREST  AS   OTHELLO. 

DURIN  a  recent  visit  to  New  York  the  undersined  went  to 
see  Edwin  Forrest.  As  I'm  into  the  moral  show  bizness  my- 
self, I  ginrally  go  to  Barnum's  moral  Museum,  where  only 
moral  peple  air  admitted,  partickly  on  Wednesday  arternoons. 
But  this  time  I  thot  I'd  go  &  see  Ed.  Ed  has  bin  actin  out  on 
the  stage  for  many  years.  There  is  varis  'pinions  about  his 
actin,  Englishmen  ginrally  bleevin  that  he  is  far  superior  to 
Mister  Macready  ;  but  on  one  pint  all  agree,  &  that  is  that  Ed 
draws  like  a  six  ox  team.  Ed  was  actin  at  Niblo's  Garding, 
which  looks  considerable  more  like  a  parster  than  a  garding, 
but  let  that  pars.  I  sot  down  in  the  pit,  took  out  my  specta- 
cles &  commenced  peroosin  the  evenin's  bill.  The  awjince  was 
all -fired  large  &  the  boxes  was  full  of  the  elitty  of  New  York. 
Several  opery  glasses  was  leveld  at  me  by  Gothum's  farest  dar- 


v^|i|;^||^|[j^^f^ 


"FAIR  YOUTH,  DO  YOU  KNOW  wnox  I'D  DO  WITH  YOU  IF  Yor 
<VAS  MY  SUN  ?"     [*See  Pa</e  65.] 


EDWIN  FORREST  AS  OTHELLO.  05 

ters,  but  I  didn't  let  on  as  tho  I  noticed  it,  tho  mebby  I  did 
take  out  my  sixteen-dollar  silver  watch  &  brandish  it  round 
more  than  was  necessary.  But  the  best  of  us  has  our  weak- 
nesses &  if  a  man  has  gewelry  let  him  show  it.  As  I  was 
peroosin  the  bill  a  grave  young  man  who  sot  near  me  axed  me 
if  I'd  ever  seen  Forrest  dance  the  Essence  of  Old  Virginny  ? 
"  He's  immense  in  that,"  sed  the  young  man.  "  He  also 
does  a  fair  champion  jig,"  the  young  man  eontinnerd,  "  but  his 
Big  Thing  is  the  Essence  of  Old  Virginny."  Sez  I,  "  Fair 
youth,  do  you  know  what  I'd  do  with  you  if  you  was  my  sun  ?  " 

"No,"  sezhe. 

"  Wall,"  sez  I,  "  I'd  appint  your  funeral  to-morrow  arter- 
noon,  &  the  korps  should  be  ready  !  You're  too  smart  to  live 
on  this  yearth."  He  didn't  tiy  any  more  of  his  capers  on 
me.  But  another  pussylanermuss  individooul,  in  a  red  vest 
<fe  patent  lether  boots,  told  me  his  name  was  Bill  Astor  &  axed 
me  to  lend  him  50  cents  till  early  in  the  mornin.  I  told  him 
I'd  probly  send  it  round  to  him  before  he  retired  to  his  vir- 
toous  couch,  but  if  I  didn't  he  might  look  for  it  next  fall,  as 
soon  as  I  cut  my  com.  The  Orchestry  was  now  fiddling  with 
all  their  might,  &  as  the  peple  didn't  understan  anything  about 
it  they  applaudid  versifrussly.  Presently,  Old  Ed  cum  out. 
The  play  was  Otheller  or  More  of  Yeniss.  Otheller  was  writ 
by  ^Vm.  Shakspeer.  The  scene  is  laid  in  Yeniss.  Otheller 
was  a  likely  man  &  was  a  ginral  in  the  Yeniss  army.  He 
eloped  with  Desdemony,  a  darter  of  the  Hon.  Mister  Braban- 
tio,  who  represented  one  of  the  back  districks  in  the  Vene- 
shun  legislater.  Old  Brabantio  was  as  mad  as  thunder  at  this 
&  tore  round  considerable,  but  finally  cooled  down,  tellin 
Otheller,  howsever,  that  Desdemony  had  come  it  over  her  Par, 
<fc  that  he  had  better  look  out  or  she'd  come  it  over  him  like- 
wise. Mr.  &  Mrs.  Otheller  git  along  very  comfortable  like  for 
a  spell.  She  is  sweet-tempered  and  luvin  —  a  nice,  sensible 
female,  never  goin  in  for  he-female  conventions,  green  cotton 
umbrellers,  and  pickled  beats.  Otheller  is  a  good  provider 
and  thinks  all  the  world  of  his  wife.  She  has  a  lazy  time  of 


66  EDWIN  FORREST  AS  OTHELLO. 

it,  the  hired  girl  cloin  all  the  cookin  and  washin.  Desdcmony, 
in  fact,  don't  have  to  git  the  water  to  wash  her  own  hands 
with.  But  a  low  cuss  named  lago,  who  I  bleeve  wants  to  git 
Otheller  out  of  his  snug  government  birth,  now  goes  to  work 
&  upsets  the  Otheller  family  in  the  most  outrajus  stile.  lago 
falls  in  with  a  brainless  youth  named  Roderigo  &  wins  all  his 
money  at  poker.  (lago  allers  played  foul.)  He  thus  got 
money  enuff  to  carry  out  his  onprincipled  skeem.  Mike 
Cassio,  a  Irishman,  is  selected  as  a  tool  by  lago.  Mike  was  a 
clever  feller  &  orficer  in  Otheller's  army.  He  liked  his  tods 
too  well,  howsever,  &  they  floored  him,  as  they  have  many 
other  promism  young  men.  lago  injuces  Mike  to  drink  with 
him,  lago  slyly  throwiii  his  whiskey  over  his  shoulder.  Mike 
gits  as  drunk  as  a  biled  owl  &  allows  that  he  can  lick  a  yard 
full  of  the  Veneshim  fancy  before  breakfast,  without  sweatin  a 
Lair.  He  meets  Koderigo  &  proceeds  for  to  smash  him.  A 
feller  named  Montano  undertakes  to  slap  Cassio,  when  that  in- 
fatooated  person  runs  his  sword  into  him.  That  miserble 
man,  lago,  pretents  to  be  very  sorry  to  see  Mike  conduck 
hisself  in  this  way,  &  undertakes  to  smooth  the  thing  over  to 
Otheller,  who  rushes  in  with  a  drawn  sword  &  wants  to  know 
what's  up.  lago  cunninly  tells  his  story,  &  Otheller  tells  Mike 
that  he  thinks  a  good  deal  of  him,  but  he  can't  train  no  more 
in  his  regiment.  Desdemony  sympathises  with  poor  Mike  & 
interceeds  for  him  with  Otheller.  lago  makes  him  bleeve  she 
does  this  because  she  thinks  more  of  Mike  than  she  does  of 
hisself.  Otheller  swallers  lago's  lyin  tail  £  goes  to  makin  a 
noosence  of  hisself  gmrally.  He  worries  poor  Desdemony 
terrible  by  his  vile  insinuations,  &  finally  smothers  her  to  deth 
with  a  piller.  Mrs.  lago  cums  in  just  as  Otheller  has  finished 
the  fowl  deed  &  givs  him  fits  right  £  left,  showin  him  that  he 
has  bin  orfully  gulled  by  her  miserble  cuss  of  a  husband, 
lago  cums  in,  &  his  wife  commences  rakin  him  down  also, 
when  he  stabs  her.  Otheller  jaws  him  a  spell  &  then  cuts  a 
small  hole  in  his  stummick  with  his  sword.  Ingo  pints  to 
Desdeinony's  deth  bed  &  goes  orf  with  a  sardonic  smile  onto 


SHO  W  BUSINESS  AND  POPULAR  LECTURES.        67 

his  countenance.  O  ^heller  tells  the  peple  that  he  has  dun  the 
state  sum  service  <fe  they  know  it ;  axes  them  to  do  as  fair  a 
tiling  as  they  can  for  him  under  tiie  circumstances,  &  kills  his- 
sc-lf  vrith  a  fish-knife,  which  is  the  most  sensible  thing  he  can 
do.  This  is  a  breef  skedule  of  the  synopsis  of  the  play. 

Edwin  Forrest  is  a  grate  acter.  I  thot  I  saw  Otheller  be- 
fore me  all  the  time  he  was  actin,  &  when  the  curtin  fell,  I 
found  my  spectacles  was  still  mistened  with  salt-water,  which 
had  run  from  my  eyes  while  poor  Desdemony  v/as  dyin. 
Betsy  Jane  —  Betsy  Jane  !  let  us  pray  that  our  domestic 
bliss  may  never  be  busted  up  by  a  lago ! 

Edwin  Forrest  makes  money  actin  out  on  the  stage.  He 
gits  five-hundred  dollars  a  iiite  &  his  board  &  washin.  I  wish 
T  had  such  a  Forrest  in  my  Garding ! 


THE  SHOW  BUSINESS  AKD  POPULAR  LECTURES. 

I  FEEL  that  the  Show  Bizniss,  which  Ive  stroven  to  orny- 
ment,  is  bein  usurpt  by  Poplar  Lecturs,  as  thay  air  kalled,  tho 
in  my  pinion  thay  air  poplar  humbugs.  Individoouls,  who  git 
hard  up,  embark  in  the  lecturin  biznis.  They  cram  their- 
l  elves  with  hi-soundin  frazis,  frizzle  up  their  hare,  git  trustid 
for  a  soot  of  black  close  &  cum  out  to  lectur  at  50  dollers  a 
pop.  Thay  aint  over  stockt  with  branes,  but  thay  hav  brass 
enuff  to  make  suffishunt  kittles  to  bile  all  the  sope  that  will  be 
required  by  the  ensooin  sixteen  ginerashuns.  Peple  flock  to 
heer  um  in  krowds.  The  men  go  becawz  its  poplar  &  the 
wimin  folks  go  to  see  what  other  wimiu  folks  have  on.  When 
its  over  the  lecturer  goze  &  ragalcs  hisself  with  oysters  amd 
sich,  while  the  peple  say  "  What  a  charmin  lectur  that  air 
was,"  etsettery  etsettery,  when  9  out  of  10  of  um  don't  have 
no  inoore  idee  of  what  the  lecturer  sed  than  my  kangeroo  has 


68  WOMAN'S  RIGHTS. 

of  the  sevunth  speer  of  hevun.  Thare's  moore  infurmashmi 
to  be  gut  out  of  a  well  concluctid  noospaper  —  price  3  sents  — 
than  tkare  is  out  of  ten  poplar  lectures  at  25  or  50  dollers  a 
pop,  as  the  kase  may  be.  These  same  peple,  bare  in  mind, 
stick  up  their  nosis  at  moral  wax  figgevs  &  sagashus  beests. 
Thay  say  these  things  is  low.  Gents,  it  greeves  my  hart  in  my 
old  age,  when  I'm  in  "the  Sheer  &  yeller  leef "  (to  cote  fruin 
my  Irish  frend  Mister  McBeth)  to  see  that  the  Show  biznis  is 
pritty  much  plade  out ;  howsomever  I  shall  chance  it  agane  in 
the  Spring. 


WOMAN'S  EIGHTS. 

I  PITCHT  my  tent  in  a  small  town  in  Injianny  one  day  last 
seeson,  &  while  I  was  standin  at  the  dore  takin  money,  a  dep- 
pytashun  of  ladies  came  up  &  sed  they  wos  members  of  the 
Bunkumville  Female  Reformin  &  Wimiii's  Kite's  Associashun, 
and  thay  axed  me  if  they  cood  go  in  without  payin. 

"  Not  exactly,"  sez  I,  "  but  you  can  pay  without  goin  in." 

"Dew  you  know  who  we  air?  "  said  one  of  the  wimin  —  a 
tall  and  feroshus  lookin  critter,  with  a  blew  kotton  umbreller 
under  her  arm  —  "  do  you  know  who  we  air,  Sir  ?  " 

"  My  impreshun  is,"  sed  I,  "  from  a  kersery  view,  that  you 
air  females." 

1 '  We  air,  Sur,"  said  the  feroshus  woman  —  "  we  belong  to  a 
Society  whitch  beleeves  wimin  has  rites  —  whitch  beleeves  in 
razin  her  to  her  proper  speer  —  whitch  beleeves  she  is  indowed 
with  as  much  intelleck  as  man  is  —  whitch  beleeves  she  is 
trampled  on  and  aboozed  —  &  who  will  resist  henso4th  &  for- 
efrer  the  incroachments  of  proud  &  domineering  men." 

Durin  her  discourse,  the  exsentric  female  grabed  me  by  the 
coat-kollor  &  was  swinging  her  umbreller  wildly  over  my  hed. 

"  I  hope,  marm,"  sez  I,  starting  back,  "  that  your  intensions 


WOMAN'S  RIGHTS.  69 

is  -honorable !  I'm  a  lone  man  hear  in  a  strange  place.  Be- 
sides, Ive  a  wife  to  hum." 

"  Yes,"  cried  the  female,  "  &  she's  a  slave  !  Doth  she  never 
dream  of  freedom  —  doth  she  never  think  of  thro  win  of  the 
yoke  of  tyrrinny  &  thinkin  &  votin  for  herself? — Doth  she 
never  think  of  these  here  things  ?  " 

"  Xot  bein  a  natral  born  fool,"  sed  I,  by  this  time  a  little 
riled,  "  I  kin  safely  say  that  she  dothunt." 

l(  Oh  whot  —  whot !  "  screamed  the  female,  swingin  her  um- 
breller  in  the  air.  "  O,  what  is  the  price  that  woman  pays  for 
her  expeeriunce  !  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  sez  I ;  "  the  price  of  my  show  is  15  cents 
pur  individooal." 

"  &  can't  our  Sosiety  go  in  free  ?  "  asked  the  female. 

"  Not  if  I  know  it,"  sed  I. 

"  Crooil,  crooil  man  !  "   she  cried,  &  bust  into  teers. 

"  Won't  you  let  my  darter  in  ?  "  sed  anuther  of  the  exsen- 
tric  wimin,  taken  me  afeckshunitely  by  the  hand.  "  O,  please 
let  my  darter  in,  —  slice's  a  sweet  gushin  child  of  natur." 

"  Let  her  gush  !  "  roared  I,  as  mad  as  I  cood  stick  at  their 
tarnal  nonsense  ;  "  let  her  gush  !  "  YvHiere  upon  they  all  sprung 
back  with  the  simultanious  observashun  that  I  was  a  Beest. 

"  My  female  friends,"  sed,  I  (t  be4  you  leeve,  I've  a  few  re- 
marks to  remark  ;  wa  them  well.  The  female  woman  is  one  of 
the  greatest  institooshuns  of  which  this  land  can  boste.  It's 
onpossible  to  get  along  without  her.  Had  there  bin  no  female 
wimin  in  the  world,  I  should  scarcely  be  here  with  my  unpar- 
aleld  show  on  this  very  occashun.  She  is  good  in  sickness  — 
good  in  wellness  —  good  all  the  time.  O  woman,  woman !  "  I 
cried,  my  feelins  worked  up  to  a  hi  poetick  pitch,  "  you  air  a 
angle  when  you  behave  yourself;  but  when  you  take  off  your 
proper  appairel  <fc  (mettyforically  speaken)  —  get  into  panty- 
loons  —  when  you  desert  your  firesides,  &  with  your  heels  full 
of  wimin's  rites  noshuns  go  round  like  roarin  lions,  seekin 
whom  you  may  devour  someboddy — in  short,  when  you  un- 
dertake to  play  the  man,  you  play  the  devil  and  air  an  emfatic 


70  THE  PRINCE  OF   WALES. 

noosance.     My  female  friends,"  I  continnered,  as  they  were  in- 
dignantly departin,  "  wa  well  what  A.  "Ward  has  sed!  " 


THE  PBINCE  OF  WALES. 

To  my  friends  of  the  Editorial  Corpse : 

I  RITE  these  lines  on  British  sile.  I've  bin  follerin  Mrs.  Vic- 
tory's hopeful  sun  Albert  Edward  threw  Kanady  with  my  on- 
paraleled  Show,  and  tho  I  haint  made  much  in  a  pecoonary  pint 
of  vew,  I've  lernt  sumthin  new,  over  hear  on  British  Sile,  whare 
they  bleeve  in  Saint  Gorge  and  the  Dragoon.  Previs  to  cumin 
over  hear  I  tawt  my  organist  how  to  grind  Rule  Brittanny  and 
other  airs  which  is  poplar  on  British  Sile.  I  likewise  fixt  a 
wax  figger  up  to  represent  Sir  Edmun  lied  the  Govner  Ginral. 
The  statoot  I  fixt  up  is  the  most  versytile  wax  statoot  I  ever 
saw.  I've  showd  it  as  Wm.  Penn,  Napoleon  Bonypart,  Juke 
of  Wellington,  the  Beneker  Boy,  Mrs.  Cunningham  &  varis 
other  notid  persons,  &  also  for  a  sertiii  pirut  named  Hix.  I've 
bin  so  long  amung  wax  statoots  that  I  can  fix  'em  up  to  soot 
the  tastes  of  folks,  &  with  sum  paints  I  hav  I  kin  giv  their 
facis  a  beneverlent  or  fiendish  look  as  the  kase  requires.  I 
giv  Sir  Edmun  Hed  a  beneverlent  look,  &  when  sum  folks  who 
thawt  they  was  smart  sed  it  didn't  look  like  Sir  Edmun  Hed 
anymore  than  it  did  anybody  else,  I  sed,  "  That's  the  pint. 
That's  the  beauty  of  the  Statoot.  It  looks  like  Sir  Edmun 
Hed  or  any  other  man.  You  may  kail  it  what  you  pleese.  Ef 
it  don't  look  like  anybody  that  ever  lived,  then  it's  sertinly  a 
remarkable  Statoot  &  well  worth  seein.  ./kail  it  Sir  Edmun 
Hed.  You  may  kail  it  what  you  pleese  !  "  [I  had  'em  thare.]1 

At  larst  I've  had  a  interview  with  the  Prince,  tho  it  putty 
nigh  cost  me  my  vallerble  life.  I  cawt  a  glimps  of  him  as  he 
sot  on  the  Pizarro  of  the  hotel  in  Sarnia,  &  elbowd  myself 


THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES.  71 

threw  a  crowd  of  wimin,  children,  sojers  &  Injins  that  was 
hangin  round  the  tavern.  I  was  drawin  near  to  the  Prince 
when  a  red-faced  man  in  Millingtery  close  grabd  holt  of  me 
and  axed  me  whare  I  was  goin  all  so  bold  ? 

"  To  see  Albert  Edard  the  Prince  of  Wales,"  sez  I ;  "  who 
are  you  ?  " 

He  sed  he  was  the  Kurnel  of  the  Seventy  Fust  Regiment, 
Her  Magisty's  troops.  I  told  him  I  hoped  the  Seventy  One- 
sters  was  in  good  helth,  and  was  passin  by  when  he  ceased  hold 
of  me  agin,  and  sed  in  a  tone  of  indigent  cirprise  : 

"  Yv'hat  ?  Impossible  !  It  kannot  be  !  Blarst  my  hize,  sir, 
did  I  understan  you  to  say  that  you  was  actooally  goin  into  the 
presents  of  his  Royal  Iniss  ?  " 

"  That's  what's  the  matter  with  me,"  I  replide. 

"  But  blarst  my  hize,  sir,  its  onprecedented.  It's  orful,  sir. 
Nothin'  like  it  hain't  happened  sins  the  Gun  Power  Plot  of 
Guy  Forks.  Owdashus  man,  who  air  yu  ?  " 

"  Sir,"  sez  I,  drawin  myself  up  &  puttin  on  a  defiant  air, 
"  I'm  a  Amerycan  sitterzen.  My  name  is  Ward.  I'm  a  hus- 
band &  the  father  of  twins,  which  I'm  happy  to  state  thay  look 
like  me.  By  perfeshun  I'm  a  exhibitor  of  wax  works  &  sich." 

"  Good  God !  "  yelled  the  Kurnal,  "  the  idee  of  a  exhibit er 
of  wax  figgers  goin  into  the  presents  of  Royalty  !  The  British 
Lion  may  well  roar  with  raje  at  the  thawt !  " 

Sez  I,  "  Speakin  of  the  British  Lion,  Kurnal,  I'd  like  to  make 
a  bargin  with  you  fur  th«»t  beast  fur  a  few  weeks  to  add  to  my 
Show."  I  didn't  meen  nothin  by  this.  I  was  only  gettin  orf 
a  goak,  but  you  orter  hev  seen  the  Old  Kurnal  jump  up  &, 
howl.  He  actooally  fomed  at  the  mowth. 

"  This  can't  be  real,"  he  showtid.  li  No,  no.  It's  a  horrid 
dream.  Sir,  you  air  not  a  human  bein  —  you  hav  no  existents 
—  yure  a  Myth  !  " 

"  Wall,"  sez  I,  "  old  hoss,  yule  find  me  a  ruther  onkomforta- 
ble  Myth  ef  you  punch  my  inards  in  that  way  agin."  I  began 
to  git  a  little  riled,  fur  when  he  called  me  a  Myth  he  puncht 
me  putty  hard.  The  Kurnal  now  commenst  showtin  fur  the 


72  TEE  PRINCE  OF   WALES. 

Seventy  Onesters.  I  at  fust  thawt  I'd  stay  &  becum  a  Marter 
to  British  Outraje,  as  sich  a  course  mite  git  my  name  up  &  be 
a  good  advertisement  fur  my  Show,  but  it  occurred  to  me  that 
ef  enny  of  the  Seventy  Onesters  shood  happen  to  insert  a  bar- 
ronet  into  my  stummick  it  mite  be  onplesunt,  &  I  was  011  the 
pint  of  runnin  orf  when  the  Prince  hisself  kum  up  &  axed  me 
what  the  matter  was.  Sez  I,  "  Albert  Edard,  is  that  you  ?  " 
&  he  smilt  &  sed  it  was.  Sez  I,  "  Albert  Edard,  hears  my 
keerd.  I  cum  to  pay  my  respecks  to  the  futer  King  of  Ingland. 
The  Kurnal  of  the  Seventy  Onesters  hear  is  ruther  smawl  per- 
taters,  but  of  course  you  ain't  to  blame  fur  that.  He  puts 
on  as  many  airs  as  tho  he  was  the  Bully  Boy  with  the  glass 
eye." 

"  Never  mind,"  sez  Albert  Edard,  "  I'm  glad  to  see  you, 
Mister  Ward,  at  all  events,"  &  he  tuk  my  hand  so  plesunt  like 
&  larfed  so  sweet  that  I  fell  in  love  with  him  to  onct.  He 
handid  me  a  segar  &  we  sot  down  on  the  Pizarro  &  commenst 
smokin  rite  cheerful.  u  Wall,"  sez  I,  "  Albert  Edard,  how's 
the  old  folks  ?  " 

"Her  Majesty  &  the  Prince  are  well,"  he  sed. 

"  Duz  the  old  man  take  his  Lager  beer  reglar  ?  "  I  inquired. 

The  Prince  larfed  &  intermatid  that  the  old  man  didn't  let 
many  kegs  of  that  bevridge  spile  in  the  sellar  in  the  coarse  of 
a  year.  We  sot  &  tawked  there  sum  time  abowt  matters  & 
things,  &  bimeby  I  axed  him  how  he  liked  bein  Prince  as  fur 
as  he'd  got. 

^  To  speak  plain,  Mister  Ward,"  he  sed,  lt  I  don't  much  like 
it.  I'm  sick  of  all  this  bowin  &  scrapin  &  crawlin  &  hurrain 
over  a  boy  like  me.  I  would  rather  go  through  the  country 
quietly  &  enjoy  myself  in  my  own  way,  with  the  other  boys,  & 
not  be  made  a  Show  of  to  be  gaped  at  by  everybody.  When 
the  peple  cheer  me  I  feel  pleesed,  fur  I  know  they  ineen  it ;  but 
if  these  one-horse  offishuls  cood  know  how  I  see  threw  all  their 
moves  &  understan  exackly  what  they  air  after,  &  knowd  how 
I  larft  at  'em  in  private,  thayd  stop  kissin  my  hands  &  fuwiiiu 
over  me  as  thay  now  do.  But  you  know,  Mr.  Ward,  I  can't 


THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES.  73 

help  bein  a  Prince,  &  I  must  do  all  I  kin  to  fit  myself  fur  the 
persishun  I  must  sumtime  ockepy." 

"  That's  troo,"  sez  I ;  "  sickness  and  the  docters  will  carry 
the  Queen  orf  one  of  these  dase  sure's,  yer  born." 

The  time  hevin  arove  fur  me  to  take  my  departer  I  rose  up 
&  sed :  "  Albert  Edard,  I  must  go,  but  previs  to  doin  so  I 
will  obsarve  that  you  soot  mo.  Yure  a  good  feller  Albert  Ed- 
ard, &  tho  I'm  agin  Princes  as  a  gineral  thing,  I  must  say 
I  like  the  cut  of  your  Gib.  When  you  git  to  be  King  try  and 
be  as  good  a  man  as  yure  muther  has  bin !  BQ  just  &  be  Jen- 
erus,  espeshully  to  showmen,  who  hav  allers  bin  aboozed  sins 
the  dase  of  Noah,  who  was  the  fust  man  to  go  into  the  Menag- 
ery  bizniss,  &  ef  the  daily  papers  of  his  time  air  to  be  beleeved 
Noah's  colleckshun  of  livin  wild  beests  beet  ennything  ever 
seen  sins,  tho  I  make  bold  to  dowt  ef  his  snaiks  was  ahead  of 
mine.  Albert  Edard,  adoo  !  "  I  tuk  his  hand  which  he  shook 
warmly,  &  givin  him  a  perpetooal  free  pars  to  my  show,  &  also 
parses  to  take  hum  for  the  Queen  &  Old  Albert,  I  put  on  my 
hat  and  walkt  away. 

"Mrs.  Ward,"  I  solilerquized,  as  . I  walkt  along,  "Mrs. 
Ward,  ef  you  could  see  your  husband  now,  just  as  he  prowdly 
emerjis  from  the  presunts  of  the  futur  King  of  Ingland,  you'd 
be  sorry  you  called  him  a  Beest  jest  becaws  he  cum  home  tired 
1  nite  and  wantid  to  go  to  bed  without  takin  orf  his  boots. 
You'd  be  sorry  for  tryin  to  deprive  yure  husband  of  the  price- 
liss  Boon  of  liberty,  Betsy  Jane  !  " 

Jest  then  I  met  a  long  perseshun  of  men  with  gownds  onto 
'em.  The  leader  was  on  horseback,  &  ridin  up  to  me  he  sed, 
"Air  you  Orange?" 

Sez  I,  «  Which  ?  " 

"  Air  you  a  Orangeman  ?  "  he  repeated,  sternly. 

"I  used  to  peddle  lemins,"  sed  I,  "but  I  never  delt  in 
oranges.  They  are  apt  to  spile  on  yure  hands.  What  particler 
Loonatic  Asylum  hev  you  &  yure  frends  escaped  frum,  ef  I 
may  be  so  bold  ?  "  Just  then  a  suddent  thawt  struck  me  &  I 
sed,  "  Oh  yure  the  fellers  who  air  worryin  the  Prince  so  & 
4 


74  OSSAWATOMIE  BROWN. 

givin  the  Juke  of  Noocastle  cold  sweats  at  nite,  by  yure  infer- 
nal catawalins,  air  you  ?  Wall,  take  the  advice  of  a  Amery- 
kin  sitterzen,  take  orf  them  gownds  &  don't  try  to  get  up  a 
religious  fite,  which  is  40  times  wuss  nor  a  prize  fite,  over 
Albert  Edard,  who  wants  to  receive  you  all  on  a  ekal  footin, 
not  keerin  a  tinker's  cuss  what  meetin  house  you  sleep  in  Sun- 
days. Go  home  and  mind  yure  bisness  &  not  make  noosenses 
of  yourselves."  With  which  observashuns  I  left  'em. 
I  shall  leeve  British  sile  4th with. 


OSSAWATOMIE   BROWN. 

I  DON'T  pertend  to  be  a  cricket  &  consekently  the  reader  will 
not  regard  this  'ere  peace  as  a  Cricketcism.  I  cimply  desine 
givin  the  pints  &  Plot  of  a  play  I  saw  actid  out  at  the  theater 
t'other  nite,  called  Ossywattermy  Brown  or  the  Hero  of  Harp- 
er's Ferry.  Ossywattermy  had  varis  failins,  one  of  which  was 
a  idee  that  he  cood  conker  Virginny  with  a  few  duzzen  loon- 
atics  which  he  had  pickt  up  sumwhares,  mercy  only  nose  wher. 
He  didn't  cum  it,  as  the  sekel  showed.  This  play  was  jerkt 
by  a  admirer  of  Old  Ossywattermy. 

First  akt  opens  at  North  Elby,  Old  Brown's  humsted. 
Thare's  a  weddin  at  the  house.  Aruely,  Old  Brown's  darter, 
marrys  sumbody,  and  they  all  whirl  in  the  Messy  darnce. 
Then  Ossywattermy  and  his  3  sons  leave  fur  Kansis.  Old 
Mrs.  Ossywattermy  tells  'em  thay  air  goin  on  a  long  jurny  & 
Blesses  'em  to  slow  fiddlin.  Thay  go  to  Kansis.  What  upon 
arth  thay  go  to  Kansis  fur  when  thay  was  so  nice  &  comfortable 
down  there  to  North  Elby,  is  more'n  I  know.  The  suns  air 
next  seen  in  Kansis  at  a  tarvern.  Mister  Blane,  a  sinister 
lookin  man  with  his  Belt  full  of  knives  &  hoss  pistils,  axes  one 
of  the  Browns  to  take  a  drink.  Brown  refuzis,  which  is  the 


OSSAWATOMIE  BROWN.  75 

fust  instance  on  record  whar  a  Brown  deklined  sich  a  invite. 
Mister  Blane,  who  is  a  dark  bearded  feroshus  lookin  person, 
then  axis  him  whether  he's  fur  or  fernenst  Slavery.  Yung 
Brown  sez  he's  agin  it,  whareupon  Mister  Blane,  who  is  the 
most  sinisterest  lookin  man  I  ever  saw,  sez  Har,  har,  har  ! 
(that  bein  his  stile  of  larfin  wildly)  <fc  ups  &  sticks  a  knife  into 
yung  Brown.  Anuther  Brown  rushes  up  &  sez,  "  you  has 
killed  me  Ber-ruther  !  "  Moosic  by  the  Band  &  Seen  changes. 
The  stuck  yung  Brown  enters  supported  by  his  two  brothers. 
Bimeby  he  falls  down,  sez  he  sees  his  Mother,  &  dies.  Moo- 
sic  by  the  Band.  I  lookt  but  couldn't  see  any  mother.  Next 
Seen  reveels  Old  Brown's  cabin.  He's  readin  a  book.  He 
sez  freedum  must  extend  its  Area  &  rubs  his  hands  like  he 
was  pleesed  abowt  it.  His  suns  come  in.  One  of  'em  goes  out 
&  cums  in  ded,  havin  bin  shot  while  out  by  a  Border  Kuffin. 
The  ded  yung  Brown  sez  he  sees  his  mother  and  tumbles  down. 
The  Border  Ruffins  then  surround  the  cabin  &  set  it  a  fire. 
'The  Browns  giv  theirselves  up  for  gone  coons,  when  the  hired 
gal  diskivers  a  trap  door  to  the  cabin  &  thay  go  down  threw 
it  &  cum  up  threw  the  bulkhed.  Their  merraklis  'scape  reminds 
me  of  the  'scape  of  De  Jones,  the  Coarsehair  of  the  Gulf  —  a 
tail  with  a  yaller  kiver,  that  I  onct  red.  For  sixteen  years  he 
was  confined  in  a  loathsum  dun]  in,  not  tastin  of  food  durin  all 
that  time.  When  a  lucky  thawt  struck  him !  He  opend  the 
winder  and  got  out.  To  resoom  —  Old  Brown  rushes  down 
to  the  footlites,  gits  down  on  his  nees  &  s wares  he'll  hav  re- 
venge. The  battle  of  Ossawatermy  takes  place.  Old  Brown 
kills  Mister  Blane,  the  sinister  individooal  aforesed.  Mister 
Blane  makes  a  able  &  elerquent  speech,  sez  he  don't  see  his 
mother  much,  and  dies  likes  the  son  of  a  gentleman,  rapt  up  in 
the  Star  Spangled  banner.  Moosic  by  the  Band.  Four  or 
five  other  Border  ruffins  air  killed,  but  thay  don't  say  nothin 
abowt  seein  their  mothers.  From  Kansis  to  Harper's  Ferry. 
Picter  of  a  Arsenal  is  represented.  Sojers  cum  &  fire  at  it. 
Old  Brown  cums  out  &  permits  hisself  to  be  shot.  He  is  tride 
by  two  soops  in  milingtery  close,  and  sentenced  to  be  hung  on 


T6  JOY  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  WARD. 

the  gallus.  Tabloo  —  Old  Brown  on  a  platform,  pintin  upards, 
the  staige  lited  up  with  red  fire.  Goddiss  of  Liberty  also  on 
platform,  pintin  upards.  A  dutchman  in  the  orkestry  warbles 
on  a  base  drum.  Curtin  falls.  Moosic  by  the  Band. 


JOY   IN  THE   HOUSE   OF   WABD. 

Dear  Sirs : 

I  TAKE  my  pen  in  hand  to  inform  you  that  I  am  in  a  state 
of  grate  bliss,  and  trust  these  lines  will  find  you  injoyin  the 
same  blessins.  I'm  reguvinated.  I've  found  the  immortal 
waters  of  yooth,  so  to  speak,  and  am  as  limber  and  frisky  as  a 
two-year-old  steer,  and  in  the  futur  them  boys  which  sez  to  me 
"  go  up,  old  Bawld  hed,"  will  do  so  Tat  the  peril  of  their  hazard, 
individooally.  I'm  very  happy.  My  house  is  full  of  joy,  and 
I  have  to  git  up  nights  and  larf !  Sumtimes  I  ax  myself  t(  is 
it  not  a  dream  ?  "  &  suthin  withinto  me  sez  "  it  air ; "  but 
when  I  look  at  them  sweet  little  critters  and  hear  'em  squawk, 
I  know  it  is  a  reality  —  2  realitys,  I  may  say  —  and  I  feel 

gay- 

I  returnd  from  the  Summer  Campane  with  my  unparaleld 
show  of  wax  works  and  livin  wild  Beests  of  Pray  in  the  early 
part  of  this  munth.  The  peple  of  Baldinsville  met  me  cordully 
and  I  immejitly  commenst  restin  myself  with  my  famerly. 
The  other  nite  while  I  was  down  to  the  tavurn  tostin  my  shins 
agin  the  bar  room  fire  &  amuzin  the  krowd  with  sum  of  my 
adventurs,  who  shood  cum  in  bare  heded  &  terrible  excited  but 
Bill  Stokes,  who  sez,  sez  he,  "  Old  Ward,  there's  grate  doins 
up  to  your  house." 

Sez  I,  "  William,  how  so  ?  " 

Sez  he,  "  Bust  my  gizzud,  but  its  grate  doins,"  &  then  he 
larfed  as  if  hee'd  kill  hisself. 


TWINS,  MARM,"  SEZ  I,  "  T WINS  !"     [See  Paye  70.] 


JOT  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  WARD.  77 

Sez  I,  risin  and  puttin  on  a  austeer  look,  "  "William,  I  wood- 
unt  be  a  fool  if  I  had  common  cents." 

But  he  kept  on  larfin  till  he  was  black  in  the  face,  when  he 
fell  over  on  to  the  bunk  where  the  hostler  sleeps,  and  in  a  still 
small  voice  sed,  "  Twins !  "  I  ashure  you  gents  that  the  grass 
didn't  grow  under  my  feet  on  my  way  home,  &  I  was  follered 
by  a  enthoosiastic  throng  of  my  feller  sitterzens,  who  hurrard 
for  Old  Ward  at  the  top  of  their  voises.  I  found  the  house 
chock  full  of  peple.  Thare  was  Mis  Square  Baxter  and  her 
three  grown-up  darters,  lawyer  Perkinses  wife,  Taberthy  Rip- 
ley,  young  Eben  Parsuns,  Deakun  Simmuns  folks,  the  Skool- 
master,  Doctor  Jordin,  etsetteny,  etsetterry.  Mis  Ward  was 
in  the  west  room,  which  jines  the  kitchin.  Mis  Square  Baxter 
was  mixin  suthin  in  a  dipper  before  the  kitchin  fire,  &  a  small 
army  of  female  wimin  were  rushin  wildly  round  the  house  with 
bottles  of  camfire,  peaces  of  nannil,  &c.  I  never  seed  such  a 
hubbub  in  my  natral  born  dase.  I  cood  not  stay  in  the  west 
room  only  a  minit,  so  strung  up  was  my  feelins,  so  I  rusht  out 
and  ceased  my  dubbel  barrild  gun. 

tf  What  upon  airth  ales  the  man  ?  "  sez  Taberthy  Eipley. 
"  Sakes  alive,  what  air  you  doin  ?  "  &  she  grabd  me  by  the  coat 
tales.  "  What's  the  matter  with  you  ?  "  she  continnerd. 

"  Twins,  marm,".  sez  I,  "  twins  !  " 

"  I  know  it,"  sez  she,  coverin  her  pretty  face  with  her  apun. 

"  Wall,"  sez  I,  «  that's  what's  the  matter  with  me  !  " 

"  Wall,  put  down  that  air  gun,  you  pesky  old  fool,"  sed  she. 

"  No,  marm,"  sez  I,  "  this  is  a  Nashunal  day.  The  glory  of 
this  here  day  isn't  confined  to  Baldinsville  by  a  darn  site.  On 
yonder  woodshed,"  sed  I,  drawin  myself  up  to  my  full  hite  and 
speakin  in  a  show-actin  voice,. "will  I  fire  a  Nashunal  saloot !  " 
sayin  whitch  I  tared  myself  from  her  grasp  and  rusht  to  the 
top  of  the  shed  whare  I  blazed  away  until  Square  Baxter's 
hired  man  and  my  son  Artemus  Juneyer  cum  and  took  me 
down  by  mane  force. 

On  returnin  to  the  Kitchin  I  found  quite  a  lot  of  people 
seated  be4  the  fire,  a  talkin  the  event  over.  They  made  room 


78  JOT  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  WAED. 

for  me  &  I  sot  down.     (l  Quite  a  eppisode,"  sed  Docter  Jordin, 
litin  his  pipe  with  a  red-hot  coal. 

"  Yes,"  sed  I,  "  2  eppisodes,  waying  abowt  18  pounds  jintly." 

"  A  perfeck  coop  de  tat,"  sed  the  skoolmaster. 

"  E  pluribus  unum,  in  proprietor  persony,"  sed  I,  thinking 
I'd  let  him  know  I  understood  furrin  langwidges  as  well  as  he 
did,  if  I  wasn't  a  skoolmaster. 

"  It  is  indeed  a  momentious  event,"  sed  young  Eben  Parsuns, 
who  has  been  2  quarters  to  the  Akademy. 

"  I  never  heard  twins  called  by  that  name  afore,"  sed  I, 
"  but  I  spose  it's  all  rite." 

"  We  shall  soon  have  Wards  enuff,"  sed  the  editer  of  the 
Bald  ins  ville  Bugle  of  Liberty,  who  was  lookin  over  a  bundle 
of  exchange  papers  in  the  corner,  <c  to  apply  to  the  legislator 
for  a  City  Charter  ?  " 

"  Good  for  you,  old  man  !  "  sed  I ;  "  giv  that  air  a  conspickius 
place  in  the  next  Bugle" 

"  How  redicklus,"  sed  pretty  Susan  Fletcher,  coverin  her 
face  with  her  knittin  work  &  larfin  like  all  possest. 

"  Wall,  for  my  part,"  sed  Jane  Maria  Peasley,  who  is  the 
Grossest  old  made  in  the  world,  "I  think  you  all  act  like  a 
pack  of  fools." 

Sez  I,  "  Mis.  Peasly,  air  you  a  parent  ?  " 

Sez  she,  «  No,  I  aint." 

Sez  I,  "  Mis.  Peasly,  you  never  will  be." 
She  left. 

We  sot  there  talkin  &  larfin  until  ft the  switchin  hour  of  nite, 
when  grave  yards  yawn  &  Josts  troop  4th,"  as  old  Bill  Shake- 
spire  aptlee  obsarves  in  his  dramy  of  John  Sheppard,  esq,  or 
the  Moral  House  Breaker,  when  we  broke  up  &  disbursed. 

Muther  &  children  is  a  doin  well ;  &  as  Kesolushuns  is 
the  order  of  the  day  I  will  feel  obleeged  if  you'll  insurt  the 
follerin  — 

Whereas,  two  Eppisodes  has  happiried  up  to  the  uiidersined'a 
house,  which  is  Twins  ;  &  Whereas  I  like  this  stile,  sade  twins 
bein  of  the  male  perswashun  &  both  boys  ;  there  4  Be  it 


BOSTON.  79 

Resolved,  That  to  them  nabers  who  did  the  fare  thing  by  sade 
Eppisodes  my  hart  felt  thanks  is  doo. 

Resolved,  Thrt  I  do  most  hartily  thank  Engine  Ko.  No.  17, 
who,  under  the  impreshun  from  the  fuss  at  my  house  on  that 
auspishus  nite  that  thare  was  a  konflagration  goin  on,  kum  gal- 
yiantly  to  the  spot,  but  kindly  refraned  frum  squirtin. 

Resolved,  That  frum  the  Bottum  of  my  Sole  do  I  thank  the 
Baldinsville  brass  band  fur  givin  up  the  idea  of  Sarahnadin  me, 
both  on  that  great  nite  &  sinse. 

Resolved,  That  my  thanks  is  doo  several  members  of  the  Bald- 
insville meetin  house  who  fur  3  whole  dase  hain't  kalled  me  a 
sinful  skofFer  or  intreeted  me  to  mend  my  wicked  wase  and  jine 
sade  meetin  house  to  onct. 

Resolved,  That  my  Boozum  teams  with  meny  kind  emoshuns 
towards  the  follerin  individoouls,  to  whit  namelee  —  Mis. 
Square  Baxter,  who  Jenerusly  refoozed  to  take  a  sent  for  a  bot- 
tle of  camfire  ;  lawyer  Perkinses  wife  who  rit  sum  versis  on 
the  Eppisodes  ;  the  Editer  of  the  Baldinsville  Bugle  of  Liberty, 
who  nobly  assisted  me  in  wollupin  my  Kangeroo, which  sagashus 
little  cuss  seriusly  disturbed  the  Eppisodes  by  his  outrajus 
screetchins  &  kickins  up ;  Mis.  Hirum  Doolittle,  who  kindly 
furnisht  sum  cold  vittles  at  a  tryin  time,  when  it  wasunt  kon- 
venient  to  cook  vittles  at  my  hous  ;  &  the  Peasleys,  Parsunses  & 
Watsunses  fur  there  meny  ax  of  kindness. 

Trooly  yures,  AKTEMUS  WARD. 


BOSTOK 

A.  W.  TO  HIS  WIFE. 


DEAR  BETSY  :  I  write  you  this  from  Boston,  "  the  Modern 
Atkins, "  as  it  is  denomyunated,  altho'  I  skurcely  know  what 
those  air.  I'll  giv  you  a  kursoory  view  of  this  city.  I'll  klassify 


80  BOSTON. 

the  paragrafs  under  seprit  lieadins,  arter  the  stile  of  those  Em- 
blems of  Trooth  and  Poority,  the  Washinton  correspongdents  : 

COPPS'  HILL. 

The  winder  of  my  room  commands  a  exileratin  view  of 
Copps'  Hill,  where  Cotton  Mather,  the  father  of  the  Reformers 
and  sich,  lies  berrid.  There  is  men  even  now  who  worship  Cot- 
ton, and  there  is  wimin  who  wear  him  next  their  harts.  But  I 
do  not  weep  for  him.  He's  bin  ded  too  lengthy.  I  aint  goin 
to  be  absurd,  like  old  Mr.  Skillins,  in  our  naberhood,  who  is 
ninety-six  years  of  age,  and  gets  drunk  every  'lection  day,  and 
weeps  Bitturly  because  he  haint  got  no  Parents.  He's  a  nice 
Orphan,  he  is. 

BUNKER  HILL. 

Bunker  Hill  is  over  yonder  in  Charleston.  In  1 776  a  thrillin' 
dramy  was  acted  out  over  there,  in  which  the  "  Warren  Combi- 
nation "  played  star  parts. 

MR.  FANUEL. 

Old  Mr.  Fanuel  is  ded,  but  his  Hall  is  still  into  full  blarst. 
This  is  the  Cradle  in  which  the  Goddess  of  Liberty  was  rocked, 
my  Dear.  The  Goddess  hasn't  bin  very  well  durin'  the  past 
few  years,  and  the  num'ris  quack  doctors  she  called  in  didn't 
help  her  any ;  but  the  old  gal's  physicians  now  are  men  who 
understand  their  bisness,  Major-generally  speakin',  and  I  think 
the  day  is  near  when  she'll  be  able  to  take  her  three  meals  a 
day,  and  sleep  nights  as  comf 'bly  as  in  the  old  time. 

THE  COMMON". 

It  is  here,  as  ushil ;  and  the  low  cuss  who  called  it  a  Wacant 
Lot,  and  wanted  to  know  why  they  didn't  ornament  it  with 
sum  Bildins',  is  a  onhappy  Outcast  in  Naponsit. 

THE    LEGISLATUR. 

The  State  House  is  filled  with  Statesmen,  but  sum  of  'em 
wear  queer  hats.  They  buy  'em,  I  take  it,  of  hatters  who  carry 


BOSTON.  81 

on  hat  stores  down  stairs  in  Dock  Square,  and  whose  hats  is 
either  ten  years  ahead  of  the  prevalin'  stile,  or  ten  years  behind 
it — jest  as  a  intellectooal  person  sees  fit  to  think  about  it.  I 
had  the  pleasure  of  talkin'  with  sevril  members  of  the  legislatur. 
I  told 'em  the  Eye  of  1,000  ages  was  onto  we  American  peple 
of  to-day.  They  seemed  deeply  impressed  by  the  remark,  and 
wantid  to  know  if  I  had  seen  the  Grate  Orgin  ? 

HARVARD    COLLEGE. 

This  celebrated  institootion  of  learnin'  is  pleasantly  situated 
in  the  Bar-room  of  Parker's,  in  School  street,  and  has  poopils 
from  all  over  the  country. 

I  had  a  letter,  yes'd'y,  by  the  way,  from  our  mootual  son, 
Artemus,  Jr.,  who  is  at  Bowdoin  College  in  Maine.  He  writes 
that  he's  a  Bowdoin  Arab.  &  is  it  cum  to  this  ?  Is  this  Boy, 
as  I  nurtured  with  a  Parent's  care  into  his  childhood's  hour  -r- 
is  he  goin'  to  be  a  Grate  American  humorist  ?  Alars  !  I  fear 
it  is  too  troo.  Why  didn't  I  bind  him  out  to  the  Patent  Trav- 
ellin'  Vegetable  Pill  Man,  as  was  struck  with  his  appearance 
at  our  last  County  Fair,  &  wanted  him  to  go  with  him  and  be  a 
Pillist?  Ar,  these  Boys  —  they  little  know  how  the  old  folks 
worrit  about  'em.  But  my  father  he  never  had  no  occasion  to 
worrit  about  me.  You  know,  Betsy,  that  when  I  fust  com- 
menced my  career  as  a  moral  exhibitor  with  a  six-legged  cat  and 
a  Bass  drum,  I  was  only  a  simple  peasant  child  —  skurce  15 
Summers  had  flow'd  over  my  yoothful  hed.  But  I  had  sum 
mind  of  my  own.  My  father  understood  this.  "  Go,"  he  said 
—  "  go,  my  son,  and  hog  the  public  !  "  (he  ment,  "  knock  em," 
but  the  old  man  was  allus  a  little  given  to  slang).  He  put  his 
withered  han'  tremblinly  onto  my  hed,  and  went  sadly  into  the 
house.  I  thought  I  saw  tears  tricklin'  down  his  venerable  chin, 
but  it  might  hav'  been  tobacker  jooce.  He  chaw'd. 

LITERATOOR. 

The  Atlantic  Monthly ',  Betsy,  is  a  reg'lar  visitor  to  our  westun 
home.     I  like  it  because  it  has  got  sense.     It  don't  print  stories 
4* 


82  BOSTON. 

with  piruts  and  hoiiist  young  men  into  'em,  making  the  piruts 
splendid  fellers  and  the  honist  young  men  dis'gree'ble  idiots  — • 
so  that  our  darters  very  nat'rally  prefer  the  piruts  to  the  honist 
young  idiots ;  but  it  gives  us  good  square  American  literatoor. 
The  chaps  that  write  for  the  Atlantic,  Betsy,  understand  their 
bisness.  They  can  sling  ink,  they  can.  I  went  in  and  saw 
'em.  I  told  'em  that  theirs  was  a  high  and  holy  mission. 
They  seemed  quite  gratified,  and  asked  me  if  I  had  seen  the 
Grate  Orgin. 

WHERE    THE    FUST    BLUD   WAS    SPILT. 

I  went  over  to  Lexington  yes'd'y.  My  Boosum  hove  with 
sollum  emotions.  "  &  this,"  I  said  to  a  man  who  was  drivin'  a 
yoke  of  oxen,  "  this  is  where  our  revolutionary  forefathers 
asserted  their  independence  and  spilt  their  Blud.  Classic 
ground ! " 

"  Wall,"  the  man  said,  a  it's  good  for  white  beans  and  pota- 
toes, but  as  regards  raisin'  wheat,  t'ain't  worth  a  dam.  But 
hav'  you  seen  the  Grate  Orgin  ?  " 

THE    POOTY    GIRL    IN    SPECTACLES. 

I  returned  in  the  Hoss  Cars,  part  way.  A  pooty  girl  in 
spectacles  sot  near  me,  and  was  tellin'  a  young  man  how  much 
he  reminded  her  of  a  man  she  used  to  know  in  Waltham. 
Pooty  soon  the  young  man  got  out,  and,  smilin'  in  a  seductiv' 
manner,  I  said  to  the  girl  in  spectacles,  "  Don't  I  remind  you 
of  somebody  you  used  to  know  ?  " 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "you  do  remind  me  of  one  man,  but  he  was 
sent  to  the  penitentiary  for  stealin'  a  Bar'l  of  mackril  —  he 
died  there,  so  I  conclood  you  ain't  him."  I  didn't  pursoo  the 
conversation.  I  only  heard  her  silvery  voice  once  more  duriii' 
the  remainder  of  the  jerney.  Turnin'  to  a  respectable  lookiii' 
female  of  advanced  summers,  she  asked  her  if  she  had  seen  the 
Grate  Orgin. 

We  old  chaps,  my  dear,  air  apt  to  forget  that  it  is  sum  time 
since  we  was  infants,  and  et  lite  food.  Nothin'  of  further 


BOSTON.  83 

intVist  took  place  on  the  cars  excep'  a  colored  gentleman,  a  total 
stranger  to  me,  asked  if  I'd  lend  him  my  diamond  Brestpin  to 
wear  to  a  funeral  in   South  Boston.     I  told  him  I  wouldn't  — - 
not  a  purpuss. 

COMMON   SKOOLS. 

A  excellent  skool  sistim  is  in  vogy  here.  John  Slurk,  my  old 
pardner,  has  a  little  son  who  has  only  bin  to  skool  two  months, 
and  yet  he  exhibertid  his  father's  performin'  Bear  in  the  show 
all  last  summer.  I  hope  they  pay  partic'lar  'tention  to  Spelin' 
in  these  Skools,  because  if  a  man  can't  Spel  wel  he's  of  no 

'kount. 

SUMMIN'  UP. 

I  ment  to  have  allooded  to  the  Grate  Orgin  in  this  letter,  but 
I  haven't  seen  it.  Mr.  Reveer,  whose  tavern  I  stop  at,  informed 
me  that  it  can  be  distinctly  heard  through  a  smoked  glass  in 
his  nativ  town  in  New  Hampshire,  any  clear  day.  But  set- 
tin'  the  Grate  Orgin  aside  (and  indeed,  I  don't  think  I  heard 
it  mentioned  all  the  time  I  was  there),  Boston  is  one  of  the 
grandest,  sure-footedest,  clear  headedest,  cornfortablest  cities  on 
the  globe.  Onlike  ev'ry  other  large  city  I  was  ever  in,  the 
most  of  the  hackmen  don't  seem  to  hav'  bin  speshully  intended 
by  natur  for  the  Burglery  perfession,  and  it's  about  the  only 
large  city  I  know  of  where  you  don't  enjoy  a  brilliant  oppor- 
tunity of  bein'  swindled  in  sum  way,  from  the  Risin  of  the  sun 
to  the  goin  down  thereof.  There4  I  say,  loud  and  continnered 
applaus'  for  Boston ! 

DOMESTIC     MATTERS. 

Kiss  the  children  for  me.  What  you  tell  me  'bout  the  Twins 
greeves  me  sorely.  When  I  sent  'em  that  Toy  Enjine  I  had 
not  contempyulated  that  they  would  so  fur  forgit  what  was  doo 
the  dignity  of  our  house  as  to  squirt  dish-water  on  the  Incum 
Tax  Collector.  It  is  a  disloyal  act,  and  shows  a  prematoor 
leanin'  tords  cussedness  that  alarms  me.  I  send  to  Amelia 
Ann,  our  oldest  dawter,  sum  new  music,  viz.,  "  I  am  Lonely 
sints  My  Mother-in-law  Died  " ;  "  Dear  Mother,  What  tho'  the 
Hand  that  Spanked  me  in  my  Childhood's  Hour  is  withered 


84:     "HONEST  OLD  ABE"  AND  HIS  NOMINATION. 

now  ?  "  &c.     These  song  writers,  by  the  way,  air  doin.'  the  Moth- 
er Bisiness  rather  too  muchly. 

Your  Own  Troo  husban', 

ARTEMUS  WARD. 


HOW    OLD    ABE   RECEIVED    THE   NEWS    OF    HIS 
NOMINATION. 

THERE  are  several  reports  afloat  as  to  how  <c  Honest  Old 
Abe  "  received  the  news  of  his  nomination,  none  of  which  are 
correct.  We  give  the  correct  report. 

The  Official  Committee  arrived  in  Springfield  at  dewy  eve, 
and  went  to  Honest  Old  Abe's  house.  Honest  Old  Abe  was 
not  in.  Mrs.  Honest  Old  Abe  said  Honest  Old  Abe  was  out 
in  the  woods  splitting  rails.  So  the  Official  Committee  went 
out  into  the  woods,  where  sure  enough  they  found  Honest  Old 
Abe  splitting  rails  with  his  two  boys.  It  was  a  grand,  a  mag- 
nificent spectacle.  There  stood  Honest  Old  Abe  in  his  shirt- 
sleeves, a  pair  of  leather  home-made  suspenders  holding  up  a 
pair  of  home-made  pantaloons,  the  seat  of  which  was  neatly 
patched  with  substantial  cloth  of  a  different  color.  "  Mr. 
Lincoln,  Sir,  you've  been  nominated,  Sir,  for  the  highest 
office,  Sir  — ."  "  Oh,  don't  bother  me,"  said  Honest  Old  Abe ; 
"  I  took  a  stent  this  mornin'  to  split  three  million  rails  afore 
night,  and  I  don't  want  to  be  pestered  with  116  stuff  about  no 
Conventions  till  I  get  my  stent  done.  I've  only  got  two  hun- 
dred thousand  rails  to  split  before  sundown.  I  kin  do  it  if 
you'll  let  me  alone."  And  the  great  man  went  right  on  split- 
ting rails,  paying  no  attention  to  the  Committee  whatever. 
The  Committee  were  lost  in  admiration  for  a  few  moments, 
when  they  recovered,  and  asked  one  of  Honest  Old  'Abe's 
boys  whose  boy  he  was  ?  "  I'm  my  parent's  boy,"  shouted  the 
urchin,  which  burst  of  wit  so  convulsed  the  Committee  that 


INTERVIEW  WITH  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN.          85 

they  cauie  very  near  <cgin'in  eout"  completely.  In  a  few 
moments  Honest  Old  Abe  finished  his  task,  and  received  the 
news  with  perfect  self-possession.  He  then  asked  them  up  to 
the  house,  where  he  received  them  cordially.  He  said  he  split 
three  million  rails  every  day,  although  he  was  in  very  poor 
health.  Mr.  Lincoln  is  a  jovial  man,  and  has  a  keen  sense  of 
the  ludicrous.  During  the  evening  he  asked  Mr.  Evarts,  of 
New  York, <c  why  Chicago  was  like  a  hen  crossing  the  street  ?  " 
Mr.  Evarts  gave  it  up.  "  Because,"  said  Mr.  Lincoln,  l(  Old 
Grimes  is  dead,  that  good  old  man  ! "  This  exceedingly  hu- 
morous thing  created  the  most  uproarious  laughter. 


INTERVIEW  WITH  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN. 

I  HAV  no  politics.  Nary  a  one.  I'm  not  in  the  bisiness. 
If  I  was  I  spose  I  should  holler  versiffrusly  in  the  streets  at 
nite  and  go  home  to  Betsy  Jane  smellen  of  coal  ile  and  gin,  in 
the  mornin.  I  should  go  to  the  Poles  arly.  I  should  stay 
there  all  day.  I  should  see  to  it  that  my  nabers  was  thar.  I 
should  git  carriges  to  take  the  kripples,  the  infirm  and  the  in- 
dignant thar.  I  should  be  on  guard  agin  frauds  and  sich.  I 
should  be  on  the  look  out  for  the  infarnus  Use  of  the  enemy, 
got  up  jest  be4  elecshun  for  perlitical  effeck.  When  all  was 
over  and  my  candydate  was  elected,  I  should  move  heving  & 
erth  —  so  to  speak  —  until  I  got  orfice,  which  if  I  didn't  git 
a  orfice  I  should  turn  round  and  abooze  the  Administration 
with  all  my  mite  and  maine.  But  I'm  not  in  the  bisniss.  I'm 
in  a  far  more  respectful  bisniss  nor  what  pollertics  is.  I 
wouldn't  giv  two  cents  to  be  a  Congresser.  The  wuss  insult  I 
ever  received  was  when  sertin  citizens  of  Baldinsville  axed  me 
to  run  fur  the  Legislates  Sez  I,  "  My  frends,  dostest  think  I'd 
stoop  to  that  there  ?  "  They  turned  as  white  as  a  sheet.  I 


86         INTERVIEW  WITH  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN. 

spoke  in  my  most  orfullest  tones,  &  they  knowd  I  wasn't  to 
be  trifled  with.  They  slunked  out  of  site  to  onct. 

There4,  havin  no  politics,  I  made  bold  to  visit  Old  Abe  at 
his  liumstid  in  Springfield.  I  found  the  old  feller  in  his  par- 
ler,  surrounded  by  a  perfeck  swarm  of  orfice  seekers.  Knowin 
he  had  been  capting  of  a  flat  boat  on  the  roarin  Mississippy  I 
thought  I'd  address  him  in  sailor  lingo,  so  sez  I,  "  Old  Abe, 
ahoy  !  Let  out  yer  main-suls,  reef  hum  the  forecastle  &  throw 
yer  jib-poop  over-board  !  Shiver  my  timbers,  my  harty  !  " 
[N.  B.  This  is  ginuine  mariner  langwidge.  I  know,  becawz 
I've  seen  sailor  plays  acted  out  by  them  New  York  theater  fel- 
lers.] Old  Abe  lookt  up  quite  cross  &  sez,  "  Send  in  yer 
petition  by  &  by.  I  can't  possibly  look  at  it  now.  Indeed,  I 
can't.  It's  onpossible,  sir  !  " 

(f  Mr.  Linkin,  who  do  you  spect  I  air  ?  "  sed  I. 

"  A  orfice-seeker,  to  be  sure,"  sed  he. 

''"Wall,  sir,"  sed  I,  "you's  never  more  mistaken  in  your 
life.  You  hain't  gut  a  orfiss  I'd  take  under  no  circumstances. 
I'm  A.  Ward.  Wax  figgers  is  my  perfeshun.  I'm  the  father 
of  Twins,  and  they  look  like  me  —  both  of  them.  I  cum  to 
pay  a  frendly  visit  to  the  President  eleck  of  the  United  States. 
If  so  be  you  wants  to  see  me,  say  so  —  if  not,  say  so,  &  I'm 
orf  like  a  jug  handle." 

"Mr.  Ward,  sit  down.     I  am  glad  to  see  you,  Sir." 

"  Repose  in.  Abraham's  Buzzum !  "  sed  one  of  the  orfice 
seekers,  his  idee  bein  to  git  orf  a  goak  at  my  expense. 

"  Wall,"  sez  I,  "  ef  all  you  fellers  repose  in  that  there 
Buzzum  thare'll  be  mity  poor  nussin  for  sum  of  you  !  "  where- 
upon Old  Abe  buttoned  his  weskit  clear  up  and  blusht  like  a 
maidin  of  sweet  16.  Jest  at  this  pint  of  the  conversation 
another  swarm  of  orfice-seekers  arrove  &  cum  pilin  into  the 
parler.  Sum  wanted  post  orfices,  sum  wanted  collectorships, 
sum  wantid  furrin  missions,  and  all  wanted  sumthrn.  I 
thought  Old  Abe  would  go  crazy.  He  hadn't  more  than  had 
time  to  shake  hands  with  'em,  before  another  tremenjis  crowd 
cum  porein  onto  his  premises.  His  house  and  dooryard  was 


As  INTERVIEW  WITH  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN.     [See  Pa-je  86.] 


INTERVIEW  WITH  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN.         87 

now  perfeekly  overflowed  with  orfice  seekers,  all  clameruss  for 
a  immejit  interview  with  Old  Abe.  One  man  from  Ohio,  who 
had  about  seven  inches  of  corn  whisky  into  him,  mistook  me 
for  Old  Abe  and  addrest  me  as  "  The  Pra-hayrie  Flower  of  the 
West !  "  Thinks  I  you  want  a  offiss  putty  bad.  Another 
man  with  a  gold  heded  cane  and  a  red  nose  told  Old  Abe  he 
was  "  a  seckind  Washington  &  the  Pride  of  the  Boundliss 
West." 

Sez  I,  i(  Square,  you  wouldn't  take  a  small  post-offiss1  if  you 
could  git  it,  would  you  ?  " 

Sez  he,  "  a  patrit  is  abuv  them  things,  sir !  " 

11  There's  a  putty  big  crop  of  patrits  this  season,  aint  there, 
Squire  ?  "  sez  I,  when  another  crowd  of  offiss  seekers  pored  in. 
The  house,  door-yard,  barn  &  woodshed  was  now  all  full,  and 
when  another  crowd  cum  I  told  'em  not  to  go  away  for  want 
of  room  as  the  hog-pen  was  still  empty.  One  patrit  from  a 
small  town  in  Michygan  went  up  on  top  the  house,  got  into 
the  chimney  and  slid  down  into  the  parler  where  Old  Abe 
was  endeverin  to  keep  the  hungry  pack  of  orfice-seekers  from 
chawin  him  up  alive  without  benefit  of  clergy.  The  minit  he 
reached  the  fire-place  he  jumpt  up,  brusht  the  soot  out  of  his 
eyes,  and  yelled  :  "  Don't  make  eny  pintment  at  the  Sptmkville 
postoffiss  till  you've  read  my  papers.  All  the  respectful  men 
in  our  town  is  signers  to  that  there  dockyment ! " 

"  Good  God  !  "  cride  Old  Abe,  "  they  cum  upon  me  from  the 
skize  —  down  the  chimneys,  and  from  the  bowels  of  the 
yerth  !  "  He  hadn't  more'n  got  them  words  out  of  his  delikit 
mouth  before  two  fat  offiss-seekers  from  Wisconsin,  in  endev- 
erin to  crawl  atween  his  legs  for  the  purpuss  of  applyin  for 
the  tollgateship  ai  Milwawky,  upsot  the  President  eleck,  &  he 
wmild  hev  gone  sprawlin  into  the  fire-place  if  I  hadn't  caught 
him  in  these  arms.  But  I  hadn't  more'n  stood  him  up  strate 
before  another  man  cum  crashin  down  the  chimney,  his  head 
strikin  me  vilently  agin  the  inards  and  prostratin  my  volup- 
toous  form  onto  the  floor.  "  Mr.  Linkin,"  shoutid  the  in- 


88          INTERVIEW  WITH  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN. 

fatooated  being,  (( my  papers  is  signed  by  every  clergyman  in 
our  town,  and  likewise  the  skoolmaster !  " 

Sez  I,  "you  egrejis  ass,"  gittin  up  &  brushin  the  dust  from 
my  eyes,  "  I'll  sign  your  papers  with  this  bunch  of  bones,  if 
you  don't  be  a  little  more  keerful  how  you  make  my  bread 
basket  a  depot  in  the  futer.  How  do  you  like  that  air  per- 
fumery ?  "  sez  I,  shuving  my  fist  under  his  nose.  "  Them's 
the  kind  of  papers  I'll  giv  you  !  Them's  the  papers  you 
want ! ." 

"  But  I  workt  hard  for  the  ticket ;  I  toiled  night  and  day  ! 
The  patrit  should  be  rewarded  !  " 

"  Virtoo,"  sed  I,  holdin'  the  infatooated  man  by  the  coat- 
collar,  *'  virtoo,  sir,  is  its  own  reward.  Look  at  me  !  "  He 
did  look  at  me,  and  qualed  be4  my  gase.  l(  The  fact  is,"  I 
continued,  lookin'  round  on  the  hungry  crowd,  "  there  is 
scacely  a  offiss  for  every  ile  lamp  can-id  round  durin'  this  cam- 
pane.  I  wish  thare  was.  I  wish  thare  was  furrin  missions  to 
be  filled  on  varis  lonely  Islands  where  eppydemics  rage  inces- 
santly, and  if  I  was  in  Old  Abe's  place  I'd  send  every  mother's 
son  of  you  to  them.  What  air  you  here  for  ?  "  I  continnered, 
warmin  up  considerable,  "  can't  you  giv  Abe  a  minit's  peace  ? 
Don't  you  see  he's  worrid  most  to  death  ?  Go  home,  you  mis- 
erable men,  go  home  &  till  the  sile  !  Go  to  peddlin  tinware  — 
go  to  choppin  wood  —  go  to  bilin'  sope  —  stuff  sassengers  — 
black  boots  —  git  a  clerkship  on  sum  respectable  manure  cart 
—  go  round  as  original  Swiss  Bell  Ringers  —  becum  '  origenal 
and  only '  Campbell  Minstrels  —  go  to  lecturin  at  50  dollars  a 
nite  —  iinbark  in  the  peanut  bizniss  —  write  for  the  Ledger  — 
saw  off  your  legs  and  go  round  givin  concerts,  with  tuchin  ap- 
peals to  a,  charitable  public,  printed  on  your  handbills  —  any- 
thing for  a  honest  living,  but  don't  come  round  here  drivin 
Old  Abe  crazy  by  your  outrajis  cuttings  up!  Go  home. 
Stand  not  upon  the  order  of  your  goin',  but  go  to  onct !  Ef 
in  five  rninits  from  this  time,"  sez  I,  pullin'  out  my  new  six- 
teen dollar  huntin  cased  watch  and  brandishin'  it  before  their 
eyes,  "  Ef  in  five  minits  from  this  time  a  single  sole  of  you 


INTERVIEW  WITH  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN.          89 

remains  on  these  here  premises,  Fll  go  out  to  my  cage  near  by, 
and  let  my  Boy  Constructor  loose  !  &  ef  he  gits  aiming  you, 
you'll  think  old  Solferino  has  cum  again  and  no  mistake !  " 
You  ought  to  hev  seen  them  scamper,  Mr.  Fair.  They  run  orf 
as  tho  Satun  hisself  was  arter  them  with  a  red  hot  ten  pronged 
pitchfork.  In  five  minits  the  premises  was  clear. 

"  How  kin  I  ever  repay  you,  Mr.  Ward,  for  your  kindness  ?  " 
sed  Old  Abe,  advancin  and  shakin  me  warmly  by  the  hand. 
"  How  Vm  I  ever  repay  you,  sir  ?  " 

li  By  givin  the  whole  country  a  good,  sound  administration. 
By  poerin'  ile  upon  the  troubled  waturs,  North  and  South. 
By  pursooin'  a  patriotic,  firm,  and  just  course,  and  then  if  any 
State  wants  to  secede,  let  'em  Sesesh !  " 

"  How  'bout  my  Cabinit,  Mister  Ward? "  sed  Abe. 

"  Fill  it  up  with  Showmen  sir !  Showmen  is  devoid  of  pol- 
itics. They  hain't  got  any  principles.  They  know  how  to  cater 
for  the  public.  They  know  what  the  public  wants,  North  <fc 
South.  Showmen,  sir,  is  honest  men.  Ef  you  doubt  their  lit- 
erary ability,  look  at  their  posters,  and  see  small  bills !  Ef 
you  want  a  Cabinit  as  is  a  Cabinit  fill  it  up  with  showmen,  but 
don't  call  on  me.  The  moral  wax  figger  perfeshun  musn't  be 
permitted  to  go  down  while  there's  a  drop  of  blood  in  these 
vains  !  A.  I/mlnn^  I  wish  you  well !  Ef  Powers  or  Walcutt 
wus  to  pick  out  a  model  for  a  beautiful  man,  I  scarcely  think 
they'd  sculp  you ;  but  ef  you  do  the  fair  thing  by  your  coun- 
try you'll  make  as  putty  a  angel  as  any  of  us !  A.  Linkin, 
use  the  talents  which  Nature  has  put  into  you  judishusly  and 
firmly,  and  all  will  be  well !  A.  Linkin,  adoo  !  " 

He  shook  me  cordyully  by  the  hand  —  we  exchanged  picters, 
so  we  could  gaze  upon  each  others'  liniments,  when  far  away 
from  one  another  —  he  at  the  helium  of  the  ship  of  State,  and 
I  at  the  helium  of  the  show  bizniss  —  admittance  only  15  cents. 


90      INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  PRINCE  NAPOLEON. 


INTERVIEW  WITH  THE   PRINCE   NAPOLEON. 

NOTWITHSTANDIN  I  hain't  writ  much  for  the  papers  of  late, 
nobody  needn't  flatter  theirselves  that  the  undersined  is  ded. 
On  the  contry,  "  I  still  live,"  which  words  was  spoken  by  Dan- 
yil  Webster,  who  was  a  able  man.  Even  the  old-line  whigs  of 
Boston  will  admit  that.  Webster  is  ded  now,  howsever,  and 
his  mantle  has  probly  fallen  into  the  hands  of  sum  dealer  in 
2nd  hand  close,  who  can't  sell  it.  Leastways  nobody  pears  to 
be  goin  round  wearin  it  to  any  perticler  extent,  now  days.  The 
rigiment  of  whom  1  was  kurnel,  finerly  concluded  they  was  bet- 
ter adapted  as  Home  Gards,  which  accounts  for  your  not  hearin 
of  me,  ear  this,  where  the  bauls  is  the  thickest  and  where  the 
cannon  doth  roar.  But  as  a  American  citizen  I  shall  never 
cease  to  admire  the  masterly  advance  our  troops  made  on 
Washinton  from  Bull  Run,  a  short  time  ago.  It  was  well 
dun.  I  spoke  to  my  wife  'bout  it  at  the  time.  My  wife  sed  it 
was  well  dun. 

It  havin  there4  bin  detarmined  to  pertect  Baklinsville  at  all 
hazzuds,  and  as  there  was  no  apprehensions  of  any  immej  it  dan- 
ger, I  thought  I  would  go  orf  onto  a  pleasure  tower.  Accor- 
dinly  I  put  on  a  clean  Biled  Shirt  and  started  for  Washinton. 
I  went  there  to  see  the  Prints  Napoleon,  and  not  to  see  the 
place,  which  I  will  here  take  occasion  to  obsarve  is  about 
as  uninterestin  a  locality  as  there  is  this  side  of  J.  Davis's 
future  home,  if  he  ever  does  die,  and  where  I  reckon  they'll 
make  it  so  warm  for  him  that  he  will  si  for  his  summer  close. 
It  is  easy  enough  to  see  why  a  man  goes  to  the  poor  house  or 
the  penitentiary.  It's  becawz  he  can't  help  it.  But  why  he 
should  woluntarily  go  and  live  in  Washinton,  is  intirely  beyond 
my  comprehension,  and  I  can't  say  no  fairer  nor  that. 

I  put  up  to  a  leadin  hotel.  I  saw  the  landlord  and  sed, 
«  How  d'ye  do,  Square  ?  " 

"  Fifty  cents,  sir,"  was  his  reply. 


INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  PRINCE  NAPOLEON.       91 

"Sir?" 

"  Half-a-dollar.  "We  charge  twenty-five  cents  for  looJdn  at 
the  landlord  and  fifty  cents  for  speakin  to  him.  If  you  want 
supper,  a  boy  will  show  you  to  the  dinin  room  for  twenty-five 
cents.  Your  room  bein  in  the  tenth  story,  it  will  cost  you  a 
dollar  to  be  shown  up  there." 

"  How  much  do  you  ax  for  a  man  breathin  in  this  equinoin- 
ikal  tarvun  ?  "  sed  I. 

"  Ten  cents  a  Breth,"  was  his  reply. 

"Washinton  hotels  is  very  reasonable  in  their  charges.  [!N". 
B.  — This  is  Sarkassum.] 

I  sent  up  my  keerd  to  the  Prints,  and  was  immejitly  ushered 
before  him.  He  received  me  kindly,  and  axed  me  to  sit  down. 

"  I  hav  cum  to  pay  my  respecks  to  you,  Mister  Napoleon, 
hopin  I  see  you  hale  and  harty." 

"  I  am  quite  well,"  he  sed.     "  Air  you  well,  sir  ?  " 

"  Sound  as  a  cuss  \  "  I  answerd. 

He  seemed  to  be  pleased  with  my  ways,  and  we  entered  into 
conversation  to  onct. 

61  How's  Lewis  ?  "  I  axed,  and  he  sed  the  Emperor  was  well. 
Eugeny  was  likewise  well,  he  sed.  Then  I  axed  him  was  Lewis 
a  good  provider?  did  he  cum  home  arly  nites?  did  lie  perfoom 
her  bedroom  at  a  onseasonable  hour  with  gin  and  tanzy  ?  Did 
he  go  to  "  the  Lodge  "  on  nites  when  there  wasn't  any  Lodge? 
did  he  often  hav  to  go  down  town  to  meet  a  friend  ?  did  he 
hav  a  extensiv  acquaintance  among  poor  young  widders  whose 
husbands  was  in  Californy  ?  to  all  of  which  questions  the  Prints 
perlitely  replide,  givin  me  to  understan  that  the  Emperor  was 
behavin  well. 

"  I  ax  these  questions,  my  royal  duke  and  most  noble  hiness 
and  imperials,  becaws  I'm  anxious  to  know  how  he  stands  as  a 
man.  I  know  he's  smart.  He  is  cunnin,  he  is  long-heded,  he 
is  deep  —  he  is  grate.  .  But  onless  he  is  good  he'll  come  down 
with  a  crash  one  of  these  days  and  the  Bonyparts  will  be  Bustid 
up  agin.  Bet  yer  life  \  " 

"  Air  you  a  preacher,  sir?  "  he  inquired  slitely  sarkasticul. 


92      INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  PPJNCE  NAPOLEON. 

ft  No,  sir.  But  I  bleeve  in  morality.  I  likewise  bleeve  in 
Meetin  Houses.  Show  me  a  place  where  there  isn't  any  Meetin 
Houses  and  where  preachers  is  never  seen,  and  I'll  show  you  a 
place  where  old  hats  air  stuffed  into  broken  winders,  where  the 
children  air  dirty  and  ragged,  where  gates  have  no  hinges, 
where  the  wimin  are  slipshod,  and  where  maps  of  the  devil's 
fi  wild  land  "  air  painted  upon  men's  shirt  bosums  with  tobacco- 
jooce  !  That's  what  I'll  show  you.  Let  us  consider  what  the 
preachers  do  for  us  before  we  aboose  'em." 

He  sed  he  didn't  mean  to  aboose  the  clergy.  Not  at  all, 
and  he  was  happy  to  see  that  I  was  interested  in  the  Bonyparb 
family. 

"  It's  a  grate  family,"  sed  I.  "  But  they  scooped  the  old 
man  in." 

«  How,  Sir  ?  " 

"  Napoleon  the  Grand.  The  Britishers  scooped  him  at  Water- 
loo. He  wanted  to  do  too  much,  arid  he  did  it !  They  scooped 
him  in  at  Waterloo,  and  he  subsekently  died  at  St.  Heleny! 
There's  where  the  gratest  military  man  this  world  ever  pro- 
juced  pegged  out.  It  was  rather  hard  to  consine  such  a  man 
as  him  to  St,  Heleny,  to  spend  his  larst  days  in  catchin  mack- 
eril,  and  walkin  up  and  down  the  dreary  beach  in  a  military 
cloak  drawn  titely  round  him,  (see  picter-books),  but  so  it  was. 
1  Hed  of  the  Army !  '  Them  was  his  larst  words.  So  he  had 
bin.  He  was  grate !  Don't  I  wish  we  had  a  pair  of  his  old 
boots  to  command  sum  of  our  Brigades !  " 

This  pleased  Jerome,  and  he  took  me  warmly  by  the  hand. 

"  Alexander  the  Grate  was  punkins,"  I  continnered,  "  but 
Napoleon  was  punkinser !  Alic  wept  becaws  there  was  no 
more  worlds  to  scoop,  and  then  took  to  drinkin.  He  drown- 
did  his  sorrers  in  the  flowin  bole,  and  the  nowin  bole  was  too 
much  for  him.  It  ginerally  is.  He  undertook  to  give  a  snake 
exhibition  in  his  boots,  but  it  killed  him.  That  was  a  bad 
joke  on  Alic !  " 

"  Since  you  air  so  solicitous  about  France  and  the  Emperor, 


INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  PRINCE  NAPOLEON.      93 

may  I  ask  you  how  your  own  country  is  getting  along  ?  "  sed 
Jerome,  in  a  pleasant  voice. 

"  It's  mixed,"  I  sed.  "  But  I  think  we  shall  cum  out  all 
right." 

"  Columbus,  when  he  diskivered  this  magnificent  continent, 
could  hav  had  no  idee  of  the  grandeur  it  would  one  day  assoom," 
sed  the  Prints. 

<c  It  cost  Columbus  twenty  thousand  dollars  to  fit  out  his 
exglorin  expedition,"  sed  I.  "  If  he  had  bin  a  sensible  man 
he'd  hav  put  the  money  in  a  hoss  railroad  or  a  gas  company, 
and  left  this  magnificent  continent  to  intelligent  savages,  who 
when  they  got  hold  of  a  good  thing  knew  enuff  to  keep  it,  and 
who  wouldn't  hav  seceded,  nor  rebelled,  nor  knockt  Liberty  in 
the  hed  with  a  slungshot.  Columbus  wasn't  much  of  a  feller, 
after  all.  It  would  hav  bin  money  in  my  pocket  if  he'd  staid 
at  home.  Chris,  ment  well,  but  he  put  his  foot  in  it  when  he 
saled  for  America." 

"We  talked  sum  more  about  matters  and  things,  and  at  larst 
I  riz  to  go.  "  I  will  now  say  good  bye  to  you,  noble  sir,  and 
good  luck  to  you.  Likewise  the  same  to  Clotildy.  Also  to 
the  gorgeous  persons  which  compose  your  soot.  If  the  Em- 
peror's boy  don't  like  livin  at  the  Tooleries,  when  he  gits  older, 
and  would  like  to  imbark  in  the  show  bizniss,  let  him  come 
with  me  and  I'll  make  a  man  of  him.  You  find  us  sumwhat 
mixed,  as  I  before  obsarved,  but  come  again  next  year  and 
you'll  find  us  clearer  nor  ever.  The  American  Eagle  has  lived 
too  sumptuously  of  late  —  his  stummic  becum  foul,  and  he's 
takin  a  slite  emetic.  That's  all.  We're  gettin  ready  to  strike 
a  big  blow  and  a  sure  one.  When  we  do  strike  the  fur  will 
fly  and  secession  will  be  in  the  hands  of  the  undertaker, 
sheeted  for  so  deep  a  grave  that  nothin  short  of  Gabriel's  trom- 
bone will  ever  awaken  it !  Mind  what  I  say.  You've  heard 
the  showman !  " 

Then  advisih  him  to  keep  away  from  the  Peter  Funk  auc- 
tions of  the  East,  and  the  proprietors  of  corner-lots  in  the 
West,  I  bid  him  farewell,  and  went  away. 


94:  AGRICULTURE. 

There  was  a  levee  at  Senator  What's-his-name's,  and  I 
thought  I'd  jine  in  the  festivities  for  a  spell.  Who  should  I 
see  but  she  that  was  Sarah  Watkins,  now  the  wife  of  our  Con- 
gresser,  trippin  in  the  dance,  dressed  up  to  kill  in  her  store 
close.  Sarah's  father  use  to  keep  a  little  grosery  store  in  our 
town  and  she  used  to  clerk  it  for  him  in  busy  times.  I  was 
rushiii  up  to  shake  hands  with  her  when  she  turned  on  her 
heel,  and  tossin  her  hed  in  a  contemptooius  manner,  walked 
away  from  me  verj7-  rapid.  "  Hallo,  Sal,"  I  hollered,  "  can't 
you  measure  me  a  quart  of  them  best  melasses  ?  I  may  want 
a  codfish,  also  !  "  I  guess  this  reminded  her  of  the  little  red 
store,  and  "  the  days  of  her  happy  childhood." 

But  I  fell  in  with  a  nice  little  gal  after  that,  who  was  much 
sweeter  than  Sally's  father's  melasses,  and  I  axed  her  if  we 
shouldn't  glide  in  the  messy  dance.  She  sed  we  should,  and 
we  Glode. 

I  intended  to  make  this  letter  very  seris,  but  a  few  goaks 
may  have  accidentally  crept  in.  Never  mind.  Besides,  I 
think  it  improves  a  koinick  paper  to  publish  a  goak  once  in  a 
while. 

Yours  Muchly, 

WARD,  (ARTEMUS.) 


AGRICULTURE. 

THE  Barclay  County  Agricultural  Society  having  seriously 
invited  the  author  of  this  volume  to  address  them  011  the  occa- 
sion of  their  next  annual  Fair,  he  wrote  the  President  of  that 
Society  as  follows : 

NEW  YORK,  June  12, 1865. 
DEAR  SIR:  — 

I  have  the  honor  to  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  your  letter  of 


Artemus  finds  it  pleasant  strolling  about  his  farm  wiili  dreNlng-gomi  and  cigar. 
Sec  paf/e  95. 


AGRICULTURE.  95 

the  5th  inst.,  in  which  you  invite  me  to  deliver  an  address  be- 
fore your  excellent  agricultural  society. 

I  feel  nattered,  and  think  I  will  come. 

Perhaps,  meanwhile,  a  brief  history  of  my  experience  as  an 
agriculturist  will  be  acceptable  ;  and  as  that  history  no  doubt 
contains  suggestions  of  value  to  the  entire  agricultural  commu- 
nity, I  have  concluded  to  write  to  you -through  the  Press. 

I  have  been  an  honest  old  farmer  for  some  four  years. 

My  farm  is  in  the  interior  of  Maine.  Unfortunately  my 
lands  are  eleven  miles  from  the  railroad.  Eleven  miles  is 
quite  a  distance  to  haul  immense  quantities  of  wheat,  corn,  rye, 
and  oats  ;  but  as  I  hav'n't  any  to  haul,  I  do  not,  after  all,  suf- 
fer much  on  that  account. 

My  farm  is  more  especially  a  grass  farm. 

My  neighbors  told  me  so  at  first,  and  as  an  evidence  that 
they  were  sincere  in  that  opinion,  they  turned  their  cows  on  to 
it  the  moment  I  went  off  "  lecturing." 

These  cows  are  now  quite  fat.  I  take  pride  in  these  cows, 
in  fact,  and  am  glad  I  own  a  grass  farm. 

Two  years  ago  I  tried  sheep-raising. 

I  bought  fifty  lambs,  and  turned  them  loose  on  my  broad 
and  beautiful  acres. 

It  was  pleasant  on  bright  mornings  to  stroll  leisurely  out  on 
to  the  farm  in  my  dressing-gown,  with  a  cigar  in  my  mouth, 
and  watch  those  innocent  little  lambs  as  they  danced  gayly  o'er 
the  hill-side.  Watching  their  saucy  capers  reminded  me  of 
caper  sauce,  and  it  occurred  to  me  I  should  have  some  very 
fine  eating  when  they  grew  up  to  be  ((  muttons." 

My  gentle  shepherd,  Mr.  Eli  Perkins,  said,  "  We  must  have 
Borne  shepherd  dogs." 

I  had  no  very  precise  idea  as  to  what  shepherd  dogs  were, 
but  I  assumed  a  rather  profound  look,  and  said, 

"We  must,  Eli.  I  spoke  to  you  about  this  some  time 
ago ! " 

I  wrote  to  my  old  friend,  Mr.  Dexter  H.  Follett,  of  Boston, 
for  two  shepherd  dogs.  Mr.  F.  is  not  an  honest  old  farmer 


96  AGRICULTURE. 

himself,  but  I  thought  he  knew  about  shepherd  dogs.  He 
kindly  forsook  far  more  important  business  to  accommodate, 
and  the  dogs  came  forthwith.  They  were  splendid  creatures  — 
snuff-colored,  hazel-eyed,  long-tailed,  and  shapely-jawed. 

We  led  them  proudly  to  the  fields. 

"  Turn  them  in,  Eli,"  I  said. 

Eli  turned  them  in. 

They  went  in  at  once,  and  killed  twenty  of  my  best  lambs  in 
about  four  minutes  and  a  half. 

My  friend  had  made  a  trifling  mistake  in  the  breed  of  these 
dogs. 

These  dogs  were  not  partial  to  sheep. 

Eli  Perkins  was  astonished,  and  observed  : 

"  Waal !  did  you  ever  ?  " 

I  certainly  never  had. 

There  were  pools  of  blood  on  the  greensward,  and  fragments 
of  wool  and  raw  lamb  chops  lay  round  in  confused  heaps. 

The  dogs  would  have  been  sent  to  Boston  that  night,  had 
they  not  suddenly  died  that  afternoon  of  a  throat-distemper. 
It  wasn't  a  swelling  of  the  throat.  It  wasn't  diphtheria.  It 
was  a  violent  opening  of  the  throat,  extending  from  ear  to  ear. 

Thus  closed  their  life-stories.  Thus  ended  their  interesting 
tails. 

I  failed  as  a  raiser  of  lambs.  As  a  sheepist,  I  was  not  a 
success. 

Last  summer  Mr.  Perkins  said,  "  I  think  we'd  better  cut 
some  grass  this  season,  sir." 

We  cut  some  grass. 

To  me  the  new-mown  hay  is  very  sweet  and  nice.  The 
brilliant  George  Arnold  sings  about  it,  in  beautiful  verse,  down 
in  Jersey  every  summer ;  so  does  the  brilliant  Aldrich,  at 
Portsmouth,  N.  H.  And  yet  I  doubt  if  either  of  these  men 
knows  the  price  of  a  ton  of  hay  to-day.  But  new-mown  hay 
is  a  really  fine  thing.  It  is  good  for  man  and  beast. 

We  hired  four  honest  farmers  to  assist  us,  and  I  led  them 
gayly  to  the  meadows. 


AGRICULTURE.  97 

I  was  going  to  mow,  myself. 

I  saw  the  sturdy  peasants  go  round  once  ere  I  dipped  my 
flashing  scythe  into  the  tall  green  grass. 

"  Are  you  ready  ?  "  said  E.  Perkins. 

«  I  am  here  !  " 

"  Then  follow  ns." 

I  followed  them. 

Followed  them  rather  too  closely,  evidently,  for  a  white- 
haired  old  man,  who  immediately  followed  Mr.  Perkins,  called 
upon  us  to  halt.  Then  in  a  low  firm  voice  he  said  to  his  son, 
who  was  just  ahead  of  me,  "John,  change  places  with  me.  I 
hain't  got  long  to  live,  anyhow.  Yonder  berryin'  ground  will 
soon  have  these  old  bones,  and  it's  no  matter  whether  I'm  car- 
ried there  with  one  leg  off  and  ter'ble  gashes  in  the  other  or 
not !  But  you,  John  —  you  are  young." 

The  old  man  changed  places  with  his  son.  A  smile  of  calm 
resignation  lit  up  his  wrinkled  face,  as  he  said,  "  Now,  sir,  I 
am  ready  !  " 

"  What  mean  you,  old  man  ?  "  I  said. 

11 1  mean  that  if  you  continner  to  bran'ish  that  blade  as  you 

have  been  bran'ishin'  it,  you'll  slash  h out  of  some  of  us 

before  we're  a  hour  older !  " 

There  was  some  reason  mingled  with  this  white-haired  old 
peasant's  profanity.  It  was  true  that  I  had  twice  escaped 
mowing  off  his  son's  legs,  and  his  father  was  perhaps  naturally 
alarmed. 

I  went  and  sat  down  under  a  tree.  "  I  never  know'd  a  lit- 
erary man  in  my  life,"  I  overheard  the  old  man  say,  "  that 
know'd  anything." 

Mr.  Perkins  was  not  as  valuable  to  me  this  season  as  I  had 
fancied  he  might  be.  Every  .afternoon  he  disappeared  from 
the  field  regularly,  and  remained  about  some  two  hours.  He 
said  it  was  headache.  He  inherited  it  from  his  mother.  His 
mother  was  often  taken  in  that  way,  and  suffered  a  great 
deal. 

At  the  end  of  the  two  hours  Mr.  Perkins  would  reappear 


98  AGRICULTURE. 

with  his  head  neatly  done  up  in  a  large  wet  rag,  and  say  he 
"felt  better." 

One  afternoon  it  so  happened  that  I  soon  followed  the  in- 
valid to  the  house,  and  as  I  neared  the  porch  I  heard  a  female 
voice  energetically  observe,  "  You  stop !  "  It  was  the  voice 
of  the  hired  girl,  and  she  added,  "  I'll  holler  for  Mr.  Brown  !  " 

"  Oh  no,  Nancy,"  I  heard  the  invalid  E.  Perkins  soothingly 
say,  "  Mr.  Brown  knows  I  love  you.  Mr.  Brown  approves  of 
it!" 

This  was  pleasant  for  Mr.  Brown  ! 

I  peered  cautiously  through  the  kitchen-blinds,  and,  how- 
ever unnatural  it  may  appear,  the  lips  of  Eli  Perkins  and  my 
hired  girl  were  very  near  together.  She  said,  "  You  shan't  do 
so,"  and  he  do-soed.  She  also  said  she  would  get  right  up  and 
go  away,  arid  as  an  evidence  that  she  was  thoroughly  in  earnest 
about  it,  she  remained  where  she  was. 

They  are  married  now,  and  Mr.  Perkins  is  troubled  no  more 
with  the  headache. 

This  year  we  are  planting  corn.  Mr.  Perkins  writes  me 
that  "  on  accounts  of  no  skare  krows  bein  put  up  krows  cum 
and  digged  fust  crop  up  but  soon  got  nother  in.  Old  Bisbee 
ho  was  frade  youd  cut  his  sons  leggs  of  Ses  you  bet  go  an 
stan  up  in  feeld  yrself  with  dressin  gownd  on  &  gesses  krows 
will  keep  way.  this  made  Boys  in  store  larf.  no  More  ter- 
day  from 

«  Yours 

"  respecful 

'*  ELI  PERKINS, 
"  his  letter," 

My  friend  Mr,  D.  T.  T.  Moore,  of  the  Rural  New  Yorker, 
thinks  if  I  "  keep  on  "  I  will  get  in  the  Poor  House  in  about 
two  years. 

If  you  think  the  honest  old  farmers  of  Barclay  County  want 
me,  I  will  come. 

Truly  Yours, 

CHARLES  F.  BROWNE. 


BUSTS.  99 


BUSTS. 

THERE  are  in  this  city  several  Italian  gentlemen  engaged  in 
the  bust  business.  They  have  their  peculiarities  and  eccen- 
tricities. They  are  swarthy-faced,  wear  slouched  caps  and 
drab  pea-jackets,  and  smoke  bad  cigars.  They  make  busts  of 
Webster,  Clay,  Bonaparte,  Douglas,  and  other  great  men,  liv- 
ing and  dead.  The  Italian  buster  comes  upon  you  solemnly 
and  cautiously.  "  Buy  Napo-leon?  "  he  will  say,  and  you  may 
probably  answer  "not  a  buy."  "How  much  giv-ee  ? "  he 
asks,  and  perhaps  you  will  ask  him  how  much  he  wants. 
"  Nine  dollar,"  he  will  answer  always.  We  are  sure  of  it. 
We  have  observed  this  peculiarity  in  the  busters  frequently. 
No  matter  how  large  or  small  the  bust  may  be,  the  first  price 
is  invariably  "  nine  dollar."  If  you  decline  paying  this  price, 
as  you  undoubtedly  will  if  you  are  right  in  your  head,  he  again 
asks,  il  how  much  giv-ee?"  By  way  of  a  joke  you  say  "  a 
dollar,"  when  the  buster  retreats  indignantly  to  the  door,  say- 
ing in  a  low,  wild  voice,  "  O  dam !  "  With  bis  hand  upon  the 
door-latch,  he  turns  and  once  more  asks,  "how  much  giv-ee?" 
You  repeat  the  previous  offer,  when  he  mutters,  "  O  ha  !  " 
then  coming  pleasantly  towards  you,  he  speaks  thus  :  "  Say  ! 
how  much  giv-ee  ? "  Again  you  say  a  dollar,  and  he  cries, 
**  take  'um  —  take  'um  !  "  —  thus  falling  eight  dollars  on  Ms 
original  price. 

Very  eccentric  is  the  Italian  buster,  and  sometimes  he  calls 
his  busts  by  wrong  names.  We  bought  Webster  (he  called 
him  Web-STAR)  of  him  the  other  day,  and  were  astonished 
when  he  called  upon  us  the  next  day  with  another  bust  of 
Webster,  exactly  like  the  one  we  had  purchased  of  him,  and 
asked  us  if  we  didn't  want  to  buy  "  Cole,  the  wife-pizener !  " 
We  endeavored  to  rebuke  the  depraved  buster,  but  our  utter- 
ance was  choked,  and  we  could  only  gaze  upon  him  in  speech- 
less astonishment  and  indignation. 


100  A  HARD  CASE. 


A  HAED  CASE. 

WE  have  heard  of  some  very  hard  cases  since  we  have  en- 
livened this  world  with  our  brilliant  presence.  We  once  saw 
an  able-bodied  man  chase  a  party  of  little  school-children  and 
rob  them  of  their  dinners.  The  man  who  stole  the  coppers 
from  his  deceased  grandmother's  eyes  lived  in  our  neighborhood, 
and  we  have  read  about  the  man  who  went  to  church  for  the  sole 
purpose  of  stealing  the  testaments  and  hymn-books.  But  the 
hardest  case  we  ever  heard  of  lived  in  Arkansas.  He  was  only 
fourteen  years  old.  One  night  he  deliberately  murdered  his 
father  and  mother  in  cold  blood,  with  a  meat-axe.  He  was 
tried  and  found  guilty.  The  Judge  drew  on  his  black  cap,  and 
in  a  voice  choked  with  emotion  asked  the  young  prisoner  if  he 
had  anything  to  say  before  the  sentence  of  the  Court  was  passed 
on  him.  The  court-room  was  densely  crowded  and  there  was 
not  a  dry  eye  in  the  vast  assembly.  The  youth  of  the  prisoner, 
his  beauty  and  innocent  looks,  the  mild,  lamblike  manner  in 
which  he  had  conducted  himself  during  the  trial  —  all,  all  had 
thoroughly  enlisted  the  sympathy  of  the  spectators,  the  ladies  in 
particular.  And  even  the  Jury,  who  had  found  it  to  be  their 
stern  duty  to  declare  him  guilty  of  the  appalling  crime  —  even  the 
Jury  now  wept  aloud  at  this  awful  moment.  "  Have  you  any- 
thing to  say  ?  "  repeated  the  deeply  moved  Judge.  "  Why,  no," 
replied  the  prisoner,  <CI  think  I  haven't,  though  I  hope  yer 
Honor  will  show  some  consideration  FOR  THE  FEELINGS  OF  A 
roon  ORPHAN  !  "  The  Judge  sentenced  the  perfect  young  wretch 
without  delay. 


AFFAIRS  AROUND  THE  VILLAGE  GREEN.      101 


AFFAIRS  AROUND  THE  VILLAGE  GREEN. 

IT  isn't  every  one  who  has  a  village  green  to  write  about.  I 
have  one,  although  I  have  not  seen  much  of  it  for  some  years 
past.  I  am  back  again,  now.  In  the  language  of  the  duke 
who  went  around  with  a  motto  about  him,  "  I  am  here !  "  and  I 
fancy  1  am  about  as  happy  a  peasant  of  the  vale  as  ever  gar- 
nished a  melodrama,  although  I  have  not  as  yet  danced  on  my 
village  green,  as  the  melo-dramatic  peasant  usually  does  on  his. 
It  was  the  case  when  Rosina  Meadows  left  home. 

The  time  rolls  by  serenely  now  —  so  serenely  that  I  don't 
care  what  time  it  is.  which  is  fortunate,  because  my  watch  is  at 
present  in  the  hands  of  those  "  men  of  New  York  who  are 
called  rioters."  We  met  by  chance,  the  usual  way  —  certainly 
not  by  appointment  —  and  I  brought  the  interview  to  a  close 
with  all  possible  despatch.  Assuring  them  that  I  wasn't  Mr. 
Greeley,  particularly,  and  that  he  had  never  boarded  in  the  pri- 
vate family  where  I  enjoy  the  comforts  of  a  home,  I  tendered 
them  my  watch,  and  begged  they  would  distribute  it  judiciously 
among  the  laboring  classes,  as  I  had  seen  the  rioters  styled  in 
certain  public  prints. 

"Why  should  I  loiter  feverishly  in  Broadway,  stabbing  the 
hissing  hot  air  with  the  splendid  goldheaded  cane  that  was  pre- 
sented to  me  by  the  citizens  of  Waukegan,  Illinois,  as  a  slight 
testimonial  of  their  esteem  ?  Why  broil  in  my  rooms  ?  You 
said  to  me,  Mrs.  Gloverson,  when  I  took  possession  of  those 
rooms,  that  no  matter  how  warm  it  might  be,  a  breeze  had  a 
way  of  blowing  into  them,  and  that  they  were,  withal,  quite 
countryfied ;  but  I  am  bound  to  say,  Mrs.  Gloverson,  that  there 
was  nothing  about  them  that  ever  reminded  me,  in  the  remotest 
degree,  of  daisies  or  new-mown  hay.  Thus,  with  sarcasm,  do  I 
smash  the  deceptive  Gloverson. 

Why  stay  in  New  York  when  I  had  a  village  green  ?  I     gave 


102      AFFAIRS  AROUND  THE  VILLAGE  GREEN. 

it  up,  tlio  samo  a3  I  would  an  intricate  conundrum  —  and,  in 
short,  I  am  here. 

Do  I  miss  the  glare  and  crash  of  the  imperial  thoroughfare  ? 
the  milkman,  the  fiery,  untamed  omnibus  horses,  the  soda  foun- 
tains, Central  Park,  and  those  things  ?  Yes,  I  do  ;  and  I  can  go 
on,  missing  'em  for  quite  a  spell,  and  enjoy  it. 

The  village  from  which  I  write  to  you  is  small.  It  does  not 
contain  over  forty  houses,  all  told ;  but  they  are  milk-white,  with 
the  greenest  of  blinds,  and  for  the  most  part  are  shaded  with 
beautiful  elms  and  willows.  To  the  right  of  us  is  a  mountain  —  to 
the  left  a  lake.  The  village  nestles  between.  Of  course  it  does. 
I  never  read  a  novel  in  my  life  in  which  the  villages  didn't  nestle. 
Villages  invariably  nestle.  It  is  a  kind  of  way  they  have. 

We  are  away  from  the  cars.  The  iron-horse,  as  my  little  sis- 
ter aptly  remarks  in  her  composition  On  Nature,  is  never  heard 
to  shriek  in  our  midst ;  and  011  the  whole  I  am  glad  of  it. 

The  villagers  are  kindly  people.  They  are  rather  incoherent 
on  the  subject  of  the  war,  but  not  more  so,  perhaps,  than  are 
people  elsewhere.  One  citizen,  who  used  to  sustain  a  good 
character,  subscribed  for  the  Weekly  iSTcw  York  Herald  a  few 
months  since,  and  went  to  studying  the  military  maps  in  that 
well-known  journal  for  the  fireside.  I  need  not  inform  you 
that  his  intellect  now  totters,  and  he  has  mortgaged  his  farm. 
In  a  literary  point  of  view  we  are  rather  bloodthirsty.  A  pam- 
phlet edition  of  the  life  of  a  cheerful  being,  who  slaughtered  his 
wife  and  child,  and  then  finished  himself,  is  having  an  extensive 
sale  just  now. 

We  know  little  of  Honore  de  Balzac,  and  perhaps  care  less 
for  Victor  Hugo.  M.  Clacs's  grand  search  for  the  Absolute 
doesn't  thrill  us  in  the  least ;  and  Jean  Valjean,  gloomily  pick- 
ing his  way  through  the  sewers  of  Paris,  with  the  spooney  young 
man  of  the  name  of  Marius  upon  his  back,  awakens  no  interest 
in  our  breasts.  I  say  Jean  Valjean  picked  his  way  gloomily, 
and  I  repeat  it.  No  man,  under  those  circumstances,  could 
have  skipped  gayly.  But  this  literary  business,  as  the  gentle- 


AFFAIRS  AROUND  THE  VILLAGE  GREEN.  ^103 

mn.n  who  married  his  colored  chambermaid  aptly  observed,  "  is 
simply  a  matter  of  taste." 

Tho  store — I  must  not  forget  the  store.  Tt  is  an  object  of 
great  interest  to  me.  I  usually  encounter  there,  on  sunny 
afternoons,  an  old  Revolutionary  soldier.  You  may  possibly 
have  read  about  (i  Another  Revolutionary  Soldier  gone,"  but 
this  is  one  who  hasn't  gone,  and,  moreover,  one  who  doesn't 
manifest  the  slightest  intention  of  going.  He  distinctly  re- 
members Washington,  of  course ;  they  all  do ;  but  what  I  wish 
to  call  special  attention  to,  is  the  fact  that  this  Revolutionary 
soldier  is  one  hundred  years  old,  that  his  eyes  are  so  good  that 
he  can  read  fine  print  without  spectacles  —  he  never  used  them, 
by  the  way  —  and  his  mind  is  perfectly  clear.  He  is  a  little 
shaky  in  one  of  his  legs,  but  otherwise  he  is  as  active  as  most 
men  of  forty-five,  and  his  general  health  is  excellent.  He  uses 
no  tobacco,  but  for  the  last  twenty  years  he  has  drunk  one  glass 
of  liquor  every  day  —  no  more,  no  less.  He  says  he  must  have 
his  tod.  I  had  begun  to  have  lurking  suspicions  about  this 
Revolutionary  soldier  business,  but  here  is  an  original  Jacobs. 
But  because  a  man  can  drink  a  glass  of  liquor  a  day,  and  live 
to  be  a  hundred  years  old,  my  young  readers  must  not  infer 
that  by  drinking  two  glasses  of  liquor  a  day  a  man  can  live  to 
be  two  hundred.  "  Which,  I  meanter  say,  it  doesn't  follor," 
as  Joseph  Gargery  might  observe. 

This  store,  in  which  may  constantly  be  found  calico  and 
nails,  and  fish,  and  tobacco  in  kegs,  and  snuff  in  bladders,  is  a 
venerable  establishment.  As  long  ago  as  1814  it  was  an  insti- 
tution. The  county  troops,  on  their  way  to  the  defence  of 
Portland,  then  menaced  by  British  ships-of-war,  were  drawn  up 
in  front  of  this  very  store,  and  treated  at  the  town's  expense. 
Citizens  will  tell  you  how  the  clergyman  refused  to  pray  for  the 
troops,  because  he  considered  the  war  an  unholy  one ;  and  how 
a  somewhat  eccentric  person,  of  dissolute  habits,  volunteered 
his  services,  stating  that  he  once  had  an  uncle  who  was  a  dea- 
con, and  he  thought  he  could  make  a  tolerable  prayer,  although 
it  was  rather  out  of  his  line ;  and  how  he  prayed  so  long  and 


104:      AFFAIRS  AROUND  THE   VILLAGE  GREEN. 

absurdly  that  the  Colonel  ordered  him  under  arrest,  but  that 
even  while  soldiers  stood  over  him  with  gleaming  bayonets,  the 
reckless  being  sang  a  preposterous  song  about  his  grandmother's 
spotted  calf,  with  its  Ri-fol-lol-tiddery-i-do ;  after  which  he 
howled  dismally. 

And  speaking  of  the  store,  reminds  me  of  a  little  story.  The 
author  of  te  several  successful  comedies  "  has  been  among  us,  and 
the  store  was  anxious  to  know  who  the  stranger  was.  And 
therefore  the  store  asked  him. 

"  What  do  you  follow,  sir  ?  "  respectfully  inquired  the  trades- 
man. 

"  I  occasionally  write  for  the  stage,  sir." 

"  Oh  !  "  returned  the  tradesman,  in  a  confused  manner. 

"He  means,"  said  an  honest  villager,  with  a -desire  to  help 
the  puzzled  tradesman  out,  "  he  means  that  he  writes  the  hand- 
bills for  the  stage  drivers  !  " 

I  believe  that  story  is  new,  although  perhaps  it  is  not  of  an 
uproariously  mirthful  character ;  but  one  hears  stories  at  the 
store  that  are  old  enough,  goodness  knows  —  stories  which,  no 
doubt,  diverted  Methuselah  in  the  sunny  days  of  his  giddy  and 
thoughtless  boyhood. 

There  is  an  exciting  scene  at  the  store  occasionally.  Yester- 
day an  athletic  peasant,  in  a  state  of  beer,  smashed  in  a  coun- 
ter and  emptied  two  tubs  of  butter  on  the  floor.  His  father  — 
a  white-haired  old  man,  who  was  a  little  boy  when  the  Revolu- 
tionary war  closed,  but  who  doesn't  remember  Y/ashington 
much,  came  round  in  the  evening  and  settled  for  the  damages. 
'•  My  son,"  he  said,  "  has  considerable  originality."  I  will 
mention  that  this  same  son  once  told  me  that  he  could  lick  me 
with  one  arm  tied  behind  him,  and  I  was  so  thoroughly  satisfied 
he  could,  that  I  told  him  he  needn't  mind  going  for  a  rope. 

Sometimes  I  go  a-visiting  to  a  farm-house,  on  which  occasions 
the  parlor  is  opened.  The  windows  have  been  close-shut  ever 
since  the  last  visitor  was  there,  and  there  is  a  dingy  smell  that 
I  struggle  as  calmly  as  possible  with,  until  1  am  led  to  the  ban- 
quet of  steaming  hot  biscuit  and  custard  pie.  If  they  Avould 


AFFAIRS  AROUND  THE  VILLAGE  GEEEN.      105 

only  let  me  sit  in  the  dear  old-fashioned  kitchen,  or  on  the  door- 
stone —  if  they  knew  how  dismally  the  new  black  furniture 
looked  —  but,  never  mind,  I  am  not  a  reformer.  No,  I  should 
rather  think  not. 

Gloomy  enough,  this  living  on  a  farm,  you  perhaps  say,  in 
which  case  you  are  wrong.  1  can't  exactly  say  that  I  pant  to 
be  an  agriculturist,  but  I  do  know  that  in  the  main  it  is  an  in- 
dependent, calmly  happy  sort  of  life.  I  can  see  how  the  prosper- 
ous farmer  can  go  joyously  a-field  with  the  rise  of  the  sun,  and 
how  his  heart  may  swell  with  pride  over  bounteous  harvests 
and  sleek  oxen.  And  it  must  be  rather  jolly  for  him  on  win- 
ter evenings  to  sit  before  the  bright  kitchen  fire  and  watch  his 
rosy  boys  and  girls  as  they  study  out  the  charades  in  the  weekly 
paper,  and  gradually  find  out  why  my  first  is  something  that 
grows  in  a  garden,  and  my  second  is  a  fish. 

On  the  green  hillside  over  yonder  there  is  a  quivering  of 
snowy  drapery,  and  bright  hair  is  flashing  in  the  morning  sun- 
light. It  is  recess,  and  the  Seminary  girls  are  running  in  the 
tall  grass. 

A  goodly  seminary  to  look  at  outside,  certainly,  although  I 
am  pained  to  learn,  as  I  do  on  unprejudiced  authority,  that 
Mrs.  Higgins,  the  Principal,  is  a  tyrant,  who  seeks  to  crush 
the  girls  and  trample  upon  them;  but  my  sorrow  is  somewhat 
assuaged  by  learning  that  Skimmerhorn,  the  pianist,  is  perfect- 
ly splendid. 

Looking  at  these  girls  reminds  me  that  I,  too,  was  once 
young  —  and  where  are  the  friends  of  my  youth  ?  I  have  found 
one  of  'em,  certainly.  I  saw  him  ride  in  the  circus  the  other 
day  on  a  bareback  horse,  and  even  now  his  name  stares  at  me 
from  yonder  board-fence,  in  green,  and  blue,  and  red,  and  yel- 
low letters.  Dashington,  the  youth  with  whom  I  used  to  read 
the  able  orations  of  Cicero,  and  who,  as  a  declaimer  on  exhibi- 
tion days,  used  to  wipe  the  rest  of  us  boys  pretty  handsomely 
out  —  well,  Dashington  is  identified  with  the  halibut  and  cod 
interest  —  drives  a  fish  cart,  in  fact,  from  a  certain  town  on 
the  coast,  back  into  the  interior.  Hurbertson,  the  utterly 


106      AFFAIRS  AROUND  THE   VILLAGE  GREEN. 

stupid  boy — the  lunkhead,  who  never  had  his  lesson  —  he's 
about  the  ablest  lawyer  a  sister  State  can  boast.  Mills  is  a 
newspaper  man,  and  is  just  now  editing  a  Major-General  down 
South. 

Singlinson,  the  sweet-voiced  boy,  whose  face  was  always 
washed  and  who  was  real  good,  and  who  was  never  rude  —  lie 
is  in  the  penitentiary  for  putting  his  uncle's  autograph  to  a  fi- 
nancial document.  Hawkins,  the  clergyman's  son,  is  an  actor, 
and  Williamson,  the  good  little  boy  who  divided  his  bread  and 
butter  with  the  beggar-man,  is  a  failing  merchant,  and  makes 
money  by  it.  Tom  Slink,  who  used  to  smoke  short-sixes  and 
get  acquainted  with  the  little  circus  boys,  is  popularly  supposed 
to  be  the  proprietor  of  a  cheap  gaming  establishment  in  Boston, 
where  the  beautiful  but  uncertain  prop  is  nightly  tossed.  Be 
sure,  the  Army  is  represented  by  many  of  the  friends  of  my 
youth,  the  most  of  whom  have  given  a  good  account  of  them- 
selves. But  Chalinerson  hasn't  done  much.  No,  Chalmerson 
is  rather  of  a  failure.  He  plays  on  the  guitar  and  sings  love 
songs.  Not  that  he  is  a  bad  man.  A  kinder-hearted  crea- 
ture never  lived,  and  they  say  he  hasn't  yet  got  over  crying 
for  his  little  curly  haired  sister  who  died  ever  so  long  ago.  But 
he  knows  nothing  about  business,  politics,  the  world,  and  those 
things.  He  is  dull  at  trade, —  indeed,  it  is  a  common  remark 
that  "  everybody  cheats  Chalmerson."  He  came  to  the  party 
the  other  evening,  and  brought  his  guitar.  They  wouldn't  have 
him  for  a  tenor  in  the  opera,  certainly,  for  he  is  shaky  in  his  up- 
per notes ;  but  if  his  simple  melodies  didn't  gush  straight  from 
the  heart,  why  were  my  trained  eyes  wet  ?  And  although  some 
of  the  girls  giggled,  and  some  of  the  men  seemed  to  pity  him,  I 
could  not  help  fancying  that  poor  Chalmerson  was  nearer  heav- 
en than  any  of  us  all ! 


T    II 

WAE. 


THE  SHOW  IS  CONFISCATED. 

You  hav  perhaps  wondered  wharebouts  I  was  for  these 
many  dase  gone  and  past.  Perchans  you  sposed  I'd  gone  to 
the  Tomb  of  the  Cappylets,  tho  I  don't  know  what  those  is. 
It's  a  popler  noospaper  frase. 

Listen  to  my  tail,  and  be  silent  that  ye  may  here  I've  been 
among  the  Seseshers,  a  earnin  my  daily  peck  by  my  legitimit 
perfeshun,  and  havn't  had  no  time  to  weeld  my  facile  quill  for 
"the  Grate  Komick  paper,"  if  you'll  alow  me  to  kote  from 
your  troothful  advertisement. 

My  success  was  skaly,  and  I  likewise  had  a  narrer  scape  of 
my  life.  If  what  I've  bin  threw  is  "  Suthern  hosspitality," 
'bout  wliich  we've  hearn  so  much,  then  I  feel  bound  to  obsarve 
that  they  made  two  much  of  me.  They  was  altogether  too 
lavish  with  their  attenshuns. 

I  went  amung  the  Seseshers  with  no  feelins  of  annermosity. 
I  went  in  my  perfeshernal  capacity.  I  was  actooated  by  one 
of  the  most  Loftiest  desires  which  can  swell  the  human  Buz- 
zum,  viz. :  — to  giv  the  peeple  their  money's  worth,  by  showin 
them  Sagashus  Beests,  and  Wax  Statoots,  which  I  venter  to 
say  air  onsurpast  by  any  other  statoots  anywheres.  I  wDl  not 

(107) 


108  THE  SHOW  IS  CONFISCATED. 

call  that  man  who  sez  my  statoots  is  humbugs  a  Her  and  a  hoss 
thief,  but  bring  him  be4  me  and  I'll  wither  him  with  one  of 
my  scornful  frowns. 

But  to  proseed  with  my  tail.  In  my  travels  threw  the 
Sonny  South  I  heared  a  heap  of  talk  about  Seceshon  and  bust- 
in  up  the  Union,  but  I  didn't  think  it  mounted  to  nothin. 
The  politicians  in  all  the  villages  was  swearin  that  Old  Abe 
(sometimes  called  the  Prahayrie  flower)  shouldn't  never  be 
noggerated.  They  also  made  fools  of  theirselves  in  varis  ways, 
but  as  they  was  used  to  that  I  didn't  let  it  worry  me  much, 
and  the  Stars  and  Stripes  continued  for  to  wave  over  my  little 
tent.  Moor  over,  I  was  a  Son  of  Malty  and  a  member  of  sev- 
eral other  Temperance  Societies,  and  my  wife  she  was  a  Daw- 
ter  of  Malty,  an  I  sposed  these  fax  would  secoor  me  the  in- 
floonz  and  pertectiun  of  all  the  fust  families.  Alas  !  I  was 
dispinted.  State  arter  State  seseshed  and  it  growed  hotter  and 
hotter  for  the  undersined.  Things  came  to  a  clinibmacks  in  a 
small  town  in  Alabamy,  where  I  was  premtorally  ordered  to 
haul  down  the  Stars  &  Stripes.  A  deppytashun  of  red-faced 
men  cum  up  to  the  door  of  my  tent  ware  I  was  standin  takin 
money  (the  arternoon  exhibishun  had  commenst,  an'  my  Italy nn 
organist  was  jerkin  his  sole-stir rin  chimes.)  "  We  air  cum, 
Sir,"  said  a  millingtary  man  in  a  cockt  hat,  "  upon  a  hi  and 
holy  mishun.  The  Southern  Eagle  is  screamin  threvvout  this 
sunny  land  —  proudly  and  defiantly  screamin,  Sir  !  " 

"  What's  the  matter  with  him?  "  sez  I ;  "don't  his  vittles  sit 
well  on  his  stummick  ?  " 

(t  That  Eagle,  Sir,  will  continner  to  scream  all  over  this 
Brite  and  tremenjus  land  !  " 

(l  Wall,  let  him  scream.  If  your  Eagle  can  amuse  hisself 
by  screamin,  let  him  went !  "  The  men  anoyed  me,  for  I  was 
Bizzy  rnakin  change. 

"  We  are  cum,  Sir,  upon  a  matter  of  dooty — " 

l(  You're  right,  Capting.  It's  every  man's  dooty  to  visit  rny 
show,"  sed  I. 

11  We  air  cum  — " 


"I  WAS  CEASED  AND  TIED  TO  A  STUMP."     [See  Page  10D.1 


THE  SHOW  IS  CONFISCATED.  109 

"  And  that's  the  reason  you  are  here !  "  sez  I,  larfin  one  of 
my  silvery  larfs.  I  thawt  if  he  wanted  to  goak  I'd  giv  him 
sum  of  my  sparklin  eppygrams. 

"  Sir,  you're  inseiient.  The  plain  question  is,  will  you  haul 
down  the  Star-Spangled  Banner,  and  hist  the  Southern  flag  !  " 

"  Nary  hist !  "     Those  was  my  reply. 

"  Your  wax  works  and  beests  is  then  connsticated,  &  you  air 
arrested  as  a  Spy  !  " 

Sez  I,  "  My  fragrant  roses  of  the  Southern  clime  and 
Bloomin  daffodils,  what's  the  price  of  Avhisky  in  this  town, 
and  how  many  cubic  feet  of  that  seductive  flooid  can  you  in- 
dividooally  hold?" 

They  made  no  reply  to  that,  but  said  my  wax  figgers  was 
connsticated.  I  axed  them  if  that  was  ginerally  the  stile  among 
thieves  in  that  country,  to  which  they  also  made  no  reply, 
but  sed  I  was  arrested  as  a  Spy,  and  must  go  to  Montgomry  in 
iuns.  They  was  by  this  time  jined  by  a  large  crowd  of  other 
Southern  patrits,  who  commenst  hollerin  u  Hang  the  bald- 
headed  aberlitionist,  and  bust  up  his  immoral  exhibition !  " 
I  was  ceased  and  tied  to  a  stump,  and  the  crowd  went  for  my 
tent  —  that  v^ater-proof  pavilion,  wherein  instruction  and 
amoosment  had  been  so  muchly  combined,  at  15  cents  per  head 
—  and  tore  it  all  to  pieces.  Meanwhile  dirty-faced  boys  was 
throwin  stuns  and  empty  beer  bottles  at  my  massiv  brow,  and 
takin  other  improper  liberties  with  my  person.  Resistance 
was  useless,  for  a  variety  of  reasons,  as  I  readily  obsarved. 

The  Seseshers  confisticated  my  statoots  by  smashin  them  to 
attums.  They  then  went  to  my  money  box  and  confisticated 
all  the  loose  change  therein  contaned.  They  then  went  and 
bust  in  my  cages,  lettin  all  the  animils  loose,  a  small  but 
helthy  tiger  among  the  rest*  This  tiger  has  a  excentric  way  of 
tearin  dogs  to  peaces,  and  I  allers  sposed  from  his  giner.il  con- 
duck  that  he'd  hav  no  hesitashun  in  servin  human  beins  in  the 
same  way  if  he  could  git  at  them.  Excuse  me  if  I  was  crooil, 
but  I  larfed  boysterrusly  when  I  see  that  tiger  spring  in  among 
the  people.  "  Go  it,  my  sweet  cuss  !  "  I  inardly  exclaimed* 


110  THE  SHOW  IS  CONFISCATED. 

"  I  forgive  you  for  bitin  off  iny  left  tlium  with  all  my  heart ! 
Kip  'em  up  like  a  bully  tiger  whose  Lare  has  bin  in  waded 
by  Seseshers !  " 

I  can't  'say  for  certain  that  the  tiger  serisly  injured  any  of 
them,  but  as  he  was  seen  a  few  days  after,  sum  miles  distant, 
with  a  large  and  well  selected  assortment  of  seats  of  trow  sis  in 
his  mouth,  and  as  he  lookt  as  tho  he'd  bin  havin  sum  vilent 
exercise,  I  rayther  guess  he  did.  You  will  therefore  perceive 
that  they  didn't  confisticate  him  much. 

I  was  carrid  to  Montgomry  in  iuns  and  placed  in  durans 
vial.  The  jail  was  a  ornery  edifiss,  but  the  table  was  librally 
surplied  with  Bakin  an  Cabbidge.  This  was  a  good  variety, 
for  when  I  didn't  hanker  after  Bakin  I  could  help  myself  to 
the  cabbige. 

I  had  nobody  to  talk  to  nor  nothin  to  talk  about,  howsever, 
and  I  was  very  lonely,  specially  on  the  first  day ;  so  when  the 
jailer  parst  my  lonely  sell  I  put  the  few  stray  hairs  011  the 
back  part  of  my  hed  (I'm  bald  now,  but  thare  was  a  time 
when  I  wore  sweet  auburn  ringlets)  into  as  dish-hevild  a  state 
as  possible,  &  rollin  my  eyes  like  a  manyyuck,  I  cride :  "  Stay, 
jaler,  stay !  I  am  not  mad,  but  soon  shall  be  if  you  don't  bring 
me  suthin  to  Talk !  "  He  brung  me  sum  noospapers,  for 
which  I  thanked  him  kindly. 

At  larst  I  got  a  interview  with  Jefferson  Davis,  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  Southern  Conthieveracy.  He  was  quite  perlite, 
and  axed  me  to  sit  down  and  state  my  case.  I  did  it,  when  he 
larfed  and  said  his  gallunt  men  had  been  a  little  2  enthoosias- 
tic  in  confisticatin  my  show. 

"  Yes,"  sez  I,  "  they  confisticated  me  too  muchly.  I  had 
sum  hosses  confisticated  in  the  same  way  onct,  but  the  confisti- 
caters  air  now  poundin  stun  in  the  States  Prison  in  Injinnap- 
ylus." 

"  Wall,  wall,  Mister  Ward,  you  air  at  liberty  to  depart ;  you 
air  frendly  to  the  South,  I  know.  Even  now  we  hav  many 
frens  in  the  North,  who  sympathise  with  us,  and  won't  mingle 
with  this  fight." 


THE  SHOW  IS  CONFISCATED.  Ill 

(t  J.  Davis,  there's  your  grate  mistaik.  Many  of  us  was  your 
sincere  frends,  and  thought  certin  parties  amung  us  was  fussin 
about  you  and  meddlin  with  your  consarns  intirely  too  much. 
But  J.  Davis,  the  minit  you  tire  a  gun  at  the  piece  of  dry-goods 
called  the  Star-Spangled  banner,  the  North  gits  up  and  rises  en 
massy,  in  defence  of  that  banner.  Not  agin  you  as  individooals, 
—  not  agin  the  South  even  —  but  to  save  the  flag.  We  should 
indeed  be  weak  in  the  knees,  unsound  in  the  heart,  milk-white 
in  the  liver,  and  soft  in  the  hed,  if  we  stood  quietly  by,  and 
saw  this  glorus  Govyment  smashed  to  pieces,  either  by  a  fur- 
rin  or  a  intestine  foe.  The  gentle-harted  mother  hates  to  take 
her  naughty  child  across  her  knee,  but  she  knows  it  is  her 
dooty  to  do  it.  So  we  shall  hate  to  whip  the  naughty  South, 
but  we  must  do  it  if  you  don't  make  back  tracks  at  onct,  and 
we  shall  wallop  you  out  of  your  boots !  J.  Davis,  it  is  my  de- 
cided opinion  that  the  Sonny  South  is  makin  a  egrejus  mutton- 
hed  of  herself  !  " 

"  Go  on,  sir,  you're  safe  enuff.  You're  too  small  powder  for 
me  !  "  sed  the  President  of  the  Southern  Conthieveracy. 

"  Wait  till  I  go  home  and  start  out  the  Baldinsville  Mount- 
ed IIoss  Cavalry !  I'm  Capting  of  that  Corpse,  I  am,  and  J. 
Davis,  beware  !  Jefferson  D.,  I  now  leave  you  !  Farewell  my 
gay  Saler  Boy  !  Good  bye,  my  bold  buccaneer !  Pirut  of  the 
deep  blue  sea,  adoo  !  adoo  !  " 

My  tower  threw  the  Southern  Conthieveracy  on  my  way 
home  was  thrillin  enuff  for  yeller  covers.  It  will  form  the 
subjeck  of  my  next.  Betsy  Jane  and  the  projeny  air  well. 

Yours  respectively, 

A.  WARD. 


112  THRILLING  SCENES  IN  DIXIE. 


THRILLING  SCENES  IN  DIXIE. 

I  HAD  a  narrer  scape  from  the  sonny  South.  "  The  swings 
and  arrers  of  outrajus  fortin,"  alluded  to  by  Hamlick,  warn't 
nothin  in  comparison  to  my  trubles.  I  come  pesky  near 
swearin  sum  profane  oaths  more'n  onct,  but  I  hope  I  didn't  do 
it,  for  I've  promist  she  whose  name  shall  be  nameless  (except 
that  her  initials  is  Betsy  J.)  that  I'll  jine  the  Meetin  House  at 
Baldinsville,  jest  as  soon  as  I  can  scrape  money  cnuff  together 
so  I  can  'ford  to  be  piuss  in  good  stile,  like  my  welthy  nabers. 
But  if  I'm  confisticated  agin  I'm  fraid  I  shall  continner  on  in 
my  present  benited  state  for  sum  time. 

I  figgered  conspicyusly  in  many  thrillin  scenes  in  my  tower 
from  Montgomry  to  my  humsted,  and  on  sevril  occasions  I 
thought  "  the  grate  komick  paper "  wouldn't  be  inrichecl  no 
more  with  my  lubrications.  Arter  biddin  adoo  to  Jefferson.  D. 
I  started  for  the  depot.  I  saw  a  nigger  sittin  on  a  fence  a- 
playin  on  a  banjo,  c<  My  Afrikan  Brother,"  sed  I,  coting  from 
a  Track  I  onct  red,  (i  you  belong  to  a  very  interestin  race. 
Your  masters  is  goin  to  war  excloosively  on  your  account." 

"  Yes,  boss,"  he  replied,  "  an'  I  wish  'em  honorable  graves  !  " 
and  he  went  on  playin  the  banjo,  larfin  all  over  and  openiii  his 
mouth  wide  eiiuff  to  drive  in  an  old-fashioned  2  wheeled  chaise. 

The  train  of  cars  in  which  I  was  to  trust  my  wallerable  life 
was  the  scaliest,  rickytiest  lookin  lot  of  consarns  that  I  ever 
saw  on  wheels  afore.  "  What  time  does  this  string  of  second- 
•hand  coffins  leave  ?  "  1  inquired  of  the  depot  master.  He  sed 
direckly,  and  I  went  in  &  sot  down.  I  hadn't  more'n  fairly 
squatted  afore  a  dark  lookin  man  with  a  swinister  expression 
onto  his  countenance  entered  the  cars,  and  lookin  very  sharp 
at  me,  he  axed  what  was  my  principles  ? 

"  Secesh  !  "  I  ansered.  "  I'm  a  Dissoluter.  I'm  in  favor  of 
Jeff  Davis,  Bowregard,  Pickens,  Capt.  Kidd,  Bloobeard,  Munro 
Edards,  the  devil,  Mrs.  Cunningham  and  all  the  rest  of  'em." 


THRILLING  SCENES  IN  DIXIE.  113 

"  You're  in  favor  of  the  war  ?  " 

((  Certingly.  By  all  means.  I'm  in  favor  of  this  war  and 
also  of  the  next  war.  I've  been  in  favor  of  the  next  war  for 
over  sixteen  years  !  " 

"  War  to  the  knife  !  "  sed  the  man. 

"  Blud,  Eargo,  Blud  !  "  sed  I,  tho  them  words  isn't  orrigernal 
with  me.  Them  words  was  rit  by  Shakspeare,  who  is  ded. 
His  mantle  fell  onto  the  author  of  "  The  Seven  Sisters,"  who's 
goin  to  hav  a  Spring  overcoat  made  out  of  it. 

We  got  under  way  at  larst,  an'  proceeded  on  our  jerney  at 
about  the  rate  of  speed  which  is  giro-ally  obsarved  by  properly- 
conducted  funeral  processions.  A  hansum  yung  gal,  with  a 
reel  musketer  bar  on  the  back  side  of  her  hed,  and  a  sassy  little 
black  hat  tipt  over  her  forrerd,  sot  in  the  seat  with  me.  She 
wore  a  little  Sesesh  flag  pin'd  onto  her  hat,  and  she  was  a  goin 
for  to  see  her  troo  love,  who  had  jined  the  Southern  army,  all 
so  bold  and  gay.  So  she  told  me.  She  was  chilly  and  I  offered 
her  my  blanket. 

"  Father  livin?"  I  axed. 

"  Yes  sir." 

"  Got  any  Uncles  ?  " 

"  A  heap.     Uncle  Thomas  is  ded,  tho." 

"  Peace  to  Uncle  Thomas's  ashes,  and  success  to  him  !  I 
will  be  your  Uncle  Thomas  !  Lean  on  me,  my  pretty  Secesher, 
and  linger  in  Blissful  repose  !  "  She  slept  as  secoorly  as  in 
her  own  housen,  and  didn't  disturb  the  sollum  stillness  of  the 
night  with  'ary  snore  ! 

At  the  first  station  a  troop  of  Sojers  entered  the  cars  and 
inquired  if  "  Old  Wax  Works  "  was  on  bored.  That  was  the 
disrespectiv  stile  in  which  they  referred  to  me.  "  Becawz  if 
Old  Wax  Works  is  on  bored,"  sez  a  man  with  a  face  like  a 
double-brested  lobster,  "  we're  going  to  hang  Old  Wax  Works  !  " 

"  My  illustrious  and  patriotic  Bummers  !  "  sez  I,  a  gittin  up 
and  takin  orf  my  Shappo,  "  if  you  allude  to  A.  Ward,  it's  my 
pleasin  dooty  to  inform  you  that  he's  ded.  lie  saw  the  error 
of  his  ways  at  15  minits  parst  2  yesterday,  and  stabbed  hisself 


114       THRILLING  SCENES  IN  DIXIE. 

with,  a  stuffed  sled-stake,  dyin  in  five  beautiful  tabloos  to  slow 
moosic !  His  larst  words  was  :  '  My  perfesherual  career  is 
over !  I  jerk  no  more  ! ' ' 

"And  who  be  you?" 

"  I'm  a  stoodent  in  Senater  Benjamin's  law  offiss.  I'm 
going  up  North  to  steal  some  spoons  and  things  for  the  South- 
ern Army." 

This  was  satisfactry  and  the  intossicated  troopers  went  ovf. 
At  the  next  station  the  pretty  little  Secesher  awoke  and  sod 
she  must  git  out  there.  I  bid  her  a  kind  adoo  and  giv  her 
sum  pervisions.  "  Accept  my  blessiii  and  this  hunk  of  ginger- 
bred  !  "  I  sed.  She  thankt  me  muchly  and  tript  galy  away. 
There's  considerable  human  nater  in  a  man,  and  I'm  fraid  I 
shall  allers  giv  aid  and  comfort  to  the  enemy  if  he  curns  to  me 
in  the  shape  of  a  nice  young  gal. 

At  the  next  station  I  didn't  get  orf  so  easy.  I  was  dragged 
out  of  the  cars  and  rolled  in  the  mud  for  several  minits,  for 
the  purpose  of  "  takin  the  conseet  out  of  me,"  as  a  Secesher 
kindly  stated. 

I  was  let  up  finally,  when  a  powerful  large  Secesher  came 
up  and  embraced  me,  and  to  show  that  he  had  110  hard  feelins 
agin  me,  put  his  nose  into  my  mouth.  I  returned  the  com- 
pliment by  placin  my  stummick  suddenly  agin  his  right  foot, 
when  he  kindly  made  a  spittoon  of  his  able-bodied  face.  Ac- 
tooated  by  a  desire  to  see  whether  the  Secesher  had  bin  vaxi- 
nated  I  then  fastened  my  teeth  onto  his  left  coat-sleeve  and 
tore  it  to  the  shoulder.  We  then  vilently  bunted  our  heads 
together  for  a  few  miiiits,  danced  around  a  little,  and  sot  down 
in  a  mud  puddle.  We  riz  to  our  feet  agin  &  by  a  sudden  and 
adroit  movement  I  placed  my  left  eye  agin  the  Secesher  \s  list. 
We  then  rushed  into  each  other's  arms  and  fell  under  a  t\vo- 
hoss  wagon.  I  was  very  much  exhaustid  and  didn't  care  about 
gettin  up  agin,  but  the  man  said  he  reckoned  I'd  better,  and  I 
conclooded  I  would.  He  pulled  me  up,  but  I  hadn't  bin  011 
my  feet  more'n  two  seconds  afore  the  ground  flew  up  and  hit 
me  in  the  hed.  The  crowd  sed  it  was  high  old  sport,  but  I 


THRILLING  SCENES  IN  DIXIE.       115 

couldn't  zackly  see  where  the  lafture  come  in.  I  riz  and  we 
embraced  agin.  We  careered  madly  to  a  steep  bank,  when  I 
got  the  upper  hands  of  my  antaggirnist  and  threw  him  into 
the  raveen.  He  fell  about  forty  feet,  striking  a  grindstone 
pretty  hard.  I  understood  he  was  injured.  I  haven't  heard 
from  the  grindstone. 

A  man  in  a  cockt  hat  cum  up  and  sed  he  felt  as  though  a 
apology  was  doo  me.  There  was  a  mistake.  The  crowd  had 
taken  me  for  another  man !  I  told  him  not  to  mention  it, 
and  axed  him  if  his  wife  and  little  ones  was  so  as  to  be  about, 
and  got  on  bored  the  train,  which  had  stopped  at  that  station 
"  20  minits  for  refreshments."  I  got  all  I  wantid.  It  was  the 
hardest  meal  I  ever  et. 

I  was  rid  on  a  rale  the  next  day,  a  bunch  of  blazin  fire  crack- 
ers bein  tied  to  my  coat  tales.  It  was  a  fine  spectycal  in  a 
dramatic  pint  of  view,  but  I  didn't  enjoy  it.  I  had  other  ad- 
venters  of  a  startlin  kind,  but  why  continner  ?  Why  lasserate 
the  Public  Boozum  with  these  here- things?  Suffysit  to  say  I 
got  across  Mason  &  Dixie's  line  safe  at  last.  I  made  tracks 
for  my  humsted,  but  she  to  whom  I'm  harnist  for  life  failed  to 
recognize,  in  the  emashiated  bein  who  stood  before  her,  the 
gnshin  youth  of  forty -six  summers  who  had  left  her  only  a  few 
months  afore.  But  I  went  into  the  pantry,  and  brought  out  a 
certin  black  bottle.  Raisin  it  to  my  lips,  I  sed  "  Here's  to 
you,  old  gal  !  "  I  did  it  so  natral  that  she  knowed  me  at  once. 
"  Those  form  !  Them  voice  !  That  natral  stile  of  doin  things ! 
'Tis  he !  "  she  cried,  and  rushed  into  my  arms.  It  was  too 
much  for  her  &  she  fell  into  a  swoon.  I  cum  very  near  swound- 
iii  myself. 

No  more  to-day  from  yours  for  the  Pepetration  of  the  Union, 
and  the  bringin  of  the  Goddess  of  Liberty  out  of  her  present 
bad  fix. 


116  FOURTH  OF  JULY  ORATION". 

FOUBTH   OF   JULY   OBATION. 

DELIVERED   JULY   4TH,  AT   WEATHERSFIELD,  CONNECTICUT,   1859. 


[I  delivered  the  follerin,  about  two  years  ago,  to  a  large  and  discriminating  awjince. 
I  was  98  minits  passin  a  given  pint.  I  have  revised  the  orashun,  and  added  sum  things 
which  makes  it  approposser  to  the  times  than  it  otherwise  would  be.  I  have  also  cor- 
rected the  grammers  and  punktooated  it.  I  do  my  own  punktooatin  now  days.  The 
Printers  in  VAKITY  FAIR  offiss  can't  punktooate  worth  a  cent.] 

FELLER  CITIZENS  :  I've  bin  honored  with  a  invite  to  norate 
before  you  to-day ;  and  when  I  say  that  I  skurcely  feel  ekal  to 
the  task,  I'm  sure  you  will  believe  me. 

\Veathersfield  is  justly  celebrated  for  her  onyins  and  patrit- 
ism  the  world  over,  and  to  be  axed  to  paws  and  address  you  on 
this  my  fust  perfeshernal  tower  threw  New  Englan,  causes  me 
to  feel  —  to  feel  —  I  may  say  it  causes  me  to  feel.  (Grate  ap- 
plaws.  They  thought  this  was  one  of  my  eccentricities,  while 
the  fact  is  I  was  stuck.  This  between  you  and  I.) 

I'm  a  plane  man.  I  don't  know  nothin  about  no  ded  lan- 
guages and  am  a  little  shaky  on  livin  ones.  There4,  expect  no 
flowry  talk  from  me.  What  I  shall  say  will  be  to  the  pint, 
right  strate  out. 

I'm  not  a  politician  and  my  other  habits  air  good.  I've  no 
encmys  to  reward,  nor  friends  to  sponge.  But  I'm  a  Union 
man.  I  luv  the  Union  —  it  is  a  Big  thing  —  and  it  makes  my 
hart  bleed  to  see  a  lot  of  ornery  peple  a-movin  heaven  —  no,  not 
heaven,  but  the  other  place  —  and  earth,  to  bust  it  up.  Too 
much  good  blud  was  spilt  in  courtin  and  marryin  that  hily  re- 
spectable female  the  Goddess  of  Liberty,  to  git  a  divorce  from 
her  now.  My  own  State  of  Injianny  is  celebrated  for  unhitchin 
man-id  peple  with  neatness  and  dispatch,  but  you  can't  git  a 
divorce  from  the  Goddess  up  there.  Not  by  no  means.  The 
old  gal  has  behaved  herself  too  well  to  cast  her  off  now.  I'm 
sorry  the  picters  don't  give  her  no  shoes  or  stockins,  but  the 


MR.  WARD  DELIVERING  ins  GREAT  UNION*  SPEECH.     (".Sec 
11 '>  1 


FOURTH  OF  JULY  ORATION.  117 

band  of  stars  upon  her  lied  must  continner  to  shine  undimd, 
forever.  I'm  for  the  Union  as  she  air,  and  withered  be  the 
arm  of  every  ornery  cuss  who  attempts  to  bust  her  up.  That's 
me.  I  hav  sed  !  [It  was  a  very  sweaty  day,  and  at  this  pint 
of  the  orashun  a  man  fell  down  with  sunstroke.  I  told  the 
awjince  that  considerin  the  large  number  of  putty  gals  present 
I  was  more  afraid  of  a  DAWTER  STROKE.  This  was  impromptoo, 
and  seemed  to  amoose  them  very  much.] 

Feller  Citizens  —  I  hain't  got  time  to  notis  the  growth  of 
Ameriky  frum  the  time  when  the  Mayflowers  cum  over  in  the 
Pilgrim  and  brawt  Plymmuth  Bock  with  them,  but  every  skool 
boy  nose  our  kareer  has  bin  tremenjis.  You  will  excuse  me  if 
I  don't  prase  the  erly  settlers  of  the  Kolonies.  Peple  which 
hung  idiotic  old  wimin  for  witches,  burnt  holes  in  Quakers' 
tongues  and  consined  their  feller  critters  to  the  tredmill  and 
pillery  on  the  slitest  provocashun  may  hav  bin  very  nice  folks 
in  their  way,  but  I  must  confess  I  don't  admire  their  stile,  and 
will  pass  them  by.  I  spose  they  ment  well,  and  so,  in  the  novel 
and  techin  langwidge  of  the  nusepapers,  "  peas  to  their  ashis." 
Thare  was  no  diskount,  however,  on  them  brave  men  who  fit, 
bled  and  died  in  the  American  Revolushun.  "We  needn't  be 
afraid  of  setting  'em  up  two  steep.  Like  my  show,  they  will 
stand  any  amount  of  prase.  G.  Washington  was  abowt  the 
best  man  this  world  ever  sot  eyes  on.  He  was  a  clear-heded, 
warm-harted,  and  stiddy  goin  man.  He  never  slopt  over! 
The  prevailin  weakness  of  most  public  men  is  to  SLOP 
OVER  !  [Put  them  words  in  large  letters  —  A.  W.]  They 
git  filled  up  and  slop.  They  Rush  Things.  They  travel  too 
much  on  the  high  presher  principle.  They  git  on  to  the  fust 
poplar  hobbyhoss  whitch  trots  along,  not  carin  a  sent  whether 
the  beest  is  even  goin,  clear  sited  and  sound  or  spavined,  blind 
and  bawky.  Of  course  they  git  throwed  eventooally,  if  not 
sooner.  When  they  see  the  multitood  goin  it  blind  they  go 
Pel  Mel  with  it,  instid  of  exertin  theirselves  to  set  it  right. 
They  can't  see  that  the  crowd  which  is  now  bearin  them  tri- 
umfantly  on  its  shoulders  will  soon  diskiver  its  error  and  cast 


118  FOURTH  OF  JULY  ORATION. 

them  into  the  hoss  pond  of  Oblivyun,  without  the  slitest  hesi- 
tashun.  Washington  never  slopt  over.  That  wasn't  George's 
stile.  He  luved  his  country  dearly.  He  wasn't  after  the 
spiles.  He  was  a  human  angil  in  a  3  koriierd  hat  and  knee 
britches,  and  we  shan't  see  his  like  right  away.  My  frends, 
we  can't  all  be  Washington's,  but  we  kin  all  be  patrits  &  behave 
ourselves  in  a  human  and  a  Christian  manner.  When  we  see 
a  brother  goin  down  hill  to  Ruin  let  us  not  give  him  a  push, 
but  let  us  seeze  rite  hold  of  his  coat-tails  and  draw  him  back 
to  Morality. 

Imagine  G.  Washington  and  P.  Henry  in  the  character  of 
seseshers !  As  well  fancy  John  Bunyan  and  Dr.  Watts  in 
spangled  tites,  doin  the  trapeze  in  a  one-horse  circus  ! 

I  tell  you,  feller-citizens,  it  would  have  bin  ten  dollars  in 
Jeff  Davis's  pocket  if  he'd  never  bin  born ! 

*  *  *  *  *  *  * 

Be  shure  and  vote  at  leest  once  at  all  elecshuns.  Buckle  on 
yer  armer  and  go  to  the  Poles.  See  two  it  that  your  naber  is 
there.  See  that  the  kripples  air  provided  with  carriages.  Go 
to  the  poles  and  stay  all  day.  Bewair  of  the  infamous  lise 
whitch  the  Opposishuii  will  be  sartin  to  git  up  fur  perlitical 
effek  on  the  eve  of  eleckshun.  To  the  poles !  and  when  you 
git  there  vote  jest  as  you  darn  please.  This  is  a  privilege  we 
all  persess,  and  it  is  1  of  the  booties  of  this  grate  and  free 
land. 

I  see  mutch  to  admire  in  New  Englan.  Your  gals  in  partick- 
lar  air  abowt  as  snug  bilt  peaces  of  Calliker  as  I  ever  saw. 
They  air  fully  equal  to  the  corn  fed  gals  of  Ohio  and  Injianny, 
and  will  make  the  bestest  kind  of  wives.  It  sets  my  Buzzum 
on  fire  to  look  at  'em. 

Ba  rtill,  my  sole,  be  still, 
&  you,  Hart,  stop  cuttin  up  I 

I  like  your  skool  houses,  your  meetin  houses,  your  enterprise, 
gumpshun  &c.,  but  your  favorit  Bevridge  I  disgust.  I  allude 
to  New  England  Hum.  It  is  wuss  nor  the  korii  whisky  of 


THE  WAR  FEVER  IN  BALDINSVILLE.  119 

Injianny,  which  eats  threw  stone  jugs  <fe  will  turn  the  stummuck 
of  the  most  shiftliss  Hog.  I  seldom  seek  consolashun  in  the 
flowin  Bole,  but  tother  day  I  wurrid  down  some  of  your  Hum. 
The  fust  glass  indused  me  to  sware  like  a  infooriated  trooper. 
On  takin  the  second  glass  I  was  seezed  with  a  desire  to  break 
winders,  &  arter  imbibin  the  third  glass  I  knockt  a  small  boy 
down,  pickt  his  pocket  of  a  New  York  Ledger,  and  wildly  com- 
menced readiii  Sylvanus  Kobb's  last  Tail.  Its  drefful  stuff— 
a  sort  of  lickwid  litenin,  gut  up  under  the  personal  supervish- 
un  of  the  devil  —  tears  men's  inards  all  to  peaces  and  makes 
their  noses  blossum  as  the  Lobster.  Shun  it  as  you  would  a 
wild  hyeny  with  a  firebrand  tied  to  his  tale,  and  while  you  air 
abowt  it  you  will  do  a  first  rate  thing  for  yourself  and  every- 
body abowt  you  by  shunnin  all  kinds  of  intoxicatin  lickers. 
You  don't  need  'em  no  more'n  a  cat  needs  2  tales,  sayin  notliin 
abowt  the  trubble  and  sufferin  they  cawse.  But  unless  your 
inards  air  cast  iron,  avoid  New  Englan's  favorite  Bevrige. 

My  frends,  I'm  dun.  I  tear  myself  away  from  you  with 
tears  in  my  eyes  &  a  pleasant  oder  of  Oiiyins  abowt  my  close. 
In  the  langwidge  of  Mister  Catterline  to  the  Rummuns,  I  go, 
but  perhaps  I  shall  cum  back  agin.  Adoo,  peple  of  Wethers- 
field.  Be  virtoous  &  you'll  be  happy ! 


THE  WAR  FEVER  IN  BALDINSVILLE. 

As  soon  as  I'd  recooperated  my  physikil  system,  I  went  over 
into  the  village.  The  peasantry  was  glad  to  see  me.  The 
skoolmaster  sed  it  was  cheerin  to  see  that  gigantic  intelleck 
among  'em  onct  more.  That's  what  he  called  me.  I  like  the 
skoolmaster,  and  allers  send  him  tobacker  when  I'm  off  on  a  trav- 
eliu  campane.  Besides,  he  is  a  very  sensible  man.  Such  men 
must  be  encouraged. 


120  THE   WAR  FEVER  IN  BALDINSVILLE. 

They  don't  git  news  very  fast  in  Baldinsville,  as  nothin  but 
a  plank  road  runs  in  there  twice  a  week,  and  that's  very  much 
out  of  repair.  So  my  nabers  wasn't  much  posted  up  in  regard 
to  the  wars.  'Squire  Baxter  sed  he'd  voted  the  dimicratic 
ticket  for  goin  on  forty  year,  and  the  war  was  a  dam  black 
republican  lie.  Jo.  Stackpole,  who  kills  hogs  for  the  'Squire, 
and  has  got  a  powerful  muscle  into  his  arms,  sed  he'd  bet  $5 
he  could  lick  the  Crisis  in  a  fair  stand-up  fight,  if  he  wouldn't 
draw  a  knife  on  him.  So  it  went  —  sum  was  for  war,  and  sum 
was  for  peace.  The  skoolmaster,  however,  sed  the  Slave  Oli- 
garky  must  cower  at  the  feet  of  the  North  ere  a  year  had  flowed 
by,  or  pass  over  his  dead  corpse.  "  Esto  perpetua  !  "  he  added  ! 
<c  And  sine  qua  non  also ! "  sed  I,  sternly,  wishing  to  make  a 
impression  onto  the  villagers.  "  Hequiescat  in  pace  !  "  sed  the 
schoolmaster.  t(  Too  troo,  too  troo !  "  I  anserd,  "  it's  a  scander- 
lusfact!" 

The  newspapers  got  along  at  last,  ichock  full  of  war,  and  the 
patriotic  fever  fairly  bust  out  in  Baldinsville.  'Squire  Baxter 
sed  he  didn't  b'lieve  in  Coercion,  not  one  of  'em,  and  could  prove 
by  a  file  of  Eagles  of  Liberty  in  his  garrit,  that  it  was  all  a  Whig 
lie,  got  up  to  raise  the  price  of  whisky  and  destroy  our  other 
liberties.  But  the  old  'Squire  got  putty  riley,  when  he  heard 
how  the  rebels  was  cuttin  up,  and  he  sed  he  reckoned  he  should 
sko'ur  up  his  old  muskit  and  do  a  little  square  fit-in  for  the  Old 
Flag,  which  had  allers  bin  on  the  ticket  he'd  voted,  and  he  was 
too  old  to  Bolt  now.  The  'Squire  is  all  right  at  heart,  but  it 
takes  longer  for  him  to  fill  his  venerable  Biler  with  steam  than 
it  used  to  when  he  was  young  and  frisky.  As  I  previously 
informed  you,  I  am  Captin  of  the  Baldinsville  Company.  I 
riz  gradooally  but  majesticly  from  drummer's  Secretary  to  my 
present  position.  But  I  found* the  ranks  wasn't  full  by  no 
means,  and  commenced  for  to  recroot.  Havin  notist  a  gineral 
desire  on  the  part  of  young  men  who  are  into  the  crisis  to  wear 
eppylits,  I  detarmined  to  have  my  company  composed  excloo- 
sively  of  oftissers,  everybody  to  rank  as  Brigadeer-Ginral.  The 
follerin  was  among  the  varis  questions  which  I  put  to  recroots : 


THE  WAR  FEVER  AY  BALDINSVILLE.  121 

Do  you  know  a  masked  battery  from  a  hunk  of  gingerbread  V 

Do  you  know  a  eppylit  from  a  piece  of  chalk  ? 

If  I  trust  you  with  a  real  gun,  how  many  men  of  your  own 
company  do  you  speck  you  can  manage  to  kill  durin  the  war? 

Hav  you  ever  heard  of  Ginral  Price  of  Missouri,  and  can  you 
avoid  siinler  accidents  in  case  of  a  battle  ? 

Hav  you  ever  had  the  measles,  and  if  so,  how  many  ? 

How  air  you  now  ? 

Show  me  your  tongue,  &c.,  &c.  Sum  of  the  questions  was 
sarcusstical. 

The  company  filled  up  rapid,  and  last  Sunday  we  went  to  the 
meetin  house  in  full  uniform.  I  had  a  seris  time  gittin  into  my 
military  harness,  as  it  was  bilt  for  me  many  years  ago ;  but  I 
finally  got  inside  of  it,  tho'  it  fitted  me  putty  clost.  Howsever, 
onct  into  it,- 1  lookt  fine  —  in  fact,  aw-inspirin.  "Do  you 
know  me,  Mrs.  Ward  ?  "  sed  I,  walkin  into  the  kitchin. 

"  Know  you,  you  old  fool  ?     Of  course  I  do." 

I  saw  at  once  she  did. 

I  started  for  the  meetin  house,  and  I'm  afraid  I  tried  to  walk 
too  strate,  for  I  cum  veiy  near  fallin  over  backards ;  and  in  at- 
temptin  to  recover  myself,  my  sword  got  mixed  up  with  my  legs, 
and  I  fell  in  among  a  choice  collection  of  young  ladies,  who  was 
standin  near  the  church  door  a-seein  the  sojer  boys  come  up.  My 
cockt  hat  fell  off,  and  sumhow  my  coat  tales  got  twisted  round 
my  neck.  The  young  ladies  put  their  handkerchers  to  their 
mouths  and  remarked :  "  Te  he,"  while  my  ancient  female  sin- 
gle friend,  Sary  Peasley,  bust  out  in  a  loud  larf.  She  exercised 
her  mouth  so  vilently  that  her  new  false  teeth  fell  out  onto  the 
ground. 

f%  Miss  Peaseley,"  sed  I,  gittin  up  and  dustin  mysert,  "  you 
must  be  more  careful  with  them  store  teeth  of  your'n  or  you'll 
have  to  gum  it  agin  !  " 

Methinks  I  had  her. 

I'd  bin  to  work  hard  all  the  week,  and  I  felt  rather  snoozy. 
I'm  'fraid  I  did  git  half  asleep,  for  on  hearin  the  minister  ask, 
"  Why  was  man  made  to  mourn?  "  I  sed,  "  I  giv  it  up,"  havin 
6 


122  THE  WAR  FEVER  HT  BALDIN8V1LLE. 

a  vague  idee  that  it  was  a  condmm.  It  was  a  onfortnit  re- 
mark, for  the  whole  meetin  house  lookt  at  me  with  mingled 
surprise  and  indignation.  I  was  about  risin  to  a  pint  of  order, 
when  it  suddenly  occurd  to  me  whare  I  was,  and  I  kept  my 
seat,  blush  in  like  the  red,  red  rose  —  so  to  speak. 

The  next  mornin  I  'rose  with  the  lark  (1ST.  B.  —  I  don't 
sleep  with  the  lark,  tho'.  A  goak.) 

My  little  dawter  was  execootin  ballids,  accompanyin  herself 
with  the  Akordeon,  and  she  wisht  me  to  linger  and  hear  her 
sing :  "  Hark  I  hear  a  angel  singin,  a  angel  now  is  onto  the  wing." 

"  Let  him  fly,  my  child !  "  sed  I,  a-bucklin  on  my  armer,  "  I 
must  forth  to  my  Biz." 

We  air  progressin  pretty  well  with  our  drill.  As  all  air 
commandin  offissers,  there  ain't  no  jelusy,  and  as  we  air  ail  ex- 
ceedin  smart,  it  t'aint  worth  while  to  try  to  outstrip  each 
other.  The  idee  of  a  company  composed  excloosively  of  Com- 
manders-in-Chiefs,  orriggernated,  I  spose  I  skurcely  need  say, 
in  these  Brane.  Considered  as  a  idee,  I  flatter  myself  it  is 
putty  hefty.  We've  got  all  the  tackticks  at  our  tongs'  ends, 
but  what  we  particly  excel  in  is  restin  mu  skits.  We  can  rest 
muskits  with  anybody. 

Our  corpse  will  do  its  dooty.  We  go  to  the  aid  of  Columby 
—  we  fight  for  the  stars ! 

We'll  be  chopt  into  sassige  meat  before  we'll  exhibit  our 
cote-tales  to  the  foe. 

We'll  fight  till  there's  no  thin  left  of  us  but  our  little  toes, 
and  even  they  shall  defiantly  wiggle  ! 


"Everofthee" 


A.  WAED. 


lti«  Editor  of  "  The  Bugle"  Is  interrupted  by  Betsey  Jane  and  her  female  warriors 
See  paff«  123. 


A   WAR  MEETING.  123 


A  WAR  MEETING. 

OUR  complaint  just  now  is  war  meetings.  They've  bin 
havin  'em  bad  in  vans  parts  of  our  cheerful  Republic,  and 
nat'rally  we  caught  'em  here  in  Baldinsville.  They  broke  out 
all  over  us.  They're  better  attended  than  the  Eclipse  was. 

I  remember  how  people  poured  into  our  town  last  Spring  to 
see  the  Eclipse.  They  labored  into  a  impression  that  they 
couldn't  see  it  to  home,  and  so  they  came  up  to  our  place.  I 
cleared  a  very  handsome  amount  of  money  by  exhibitin'  the 
Eclipse  to  'em,  in  an  open-top  tent.  But  the  crowds  is  bigger 
now.  Posey  County  is  aroused.  I  may  say,  indeed,  that  the 
pra-hay-ories  of  Injianny  is  on  fire. 

Our  big  meetin'  came  off  the  other  night,  and  our  old  friend 
of  the  Bugle  was  elected  Cheerman. 

The  Bugle-Horn  of  Liberty  is  one  of  Baldinsville's  most 
eminentest  institootions.  The  advertisements  are  well-written, 
and  the  deaths  and  marriages  are  conducted  with  signal  ability. 
The  editor,  Mr.  SLIXKERS,  is  a  polish'd,  skarcastic  writer. 
Folks  in  these  parts  will  not  soon  forgit  how  he  used  up  the 
Eagle  of  Freedom,  a  family  journal  published  at  Snoot ville, 
near  here.  The  controversy  was  about  a  plank  road.  "  The 
road  may  be,  as  our  cotemporary  says,  a  humbug ;  but  our 
aunt  isn't  bald-heded,  and  we  haven't  got  a  one-eyed  sister  Sal ! 
"Wonder  if  the  Editor  of  the  Eagle  of  Freedom  sees  it?" 
This  used  up  the  Eagle  of  Freedom  feller,  because  his  aunt's 
head  does  present  a  skinn'd  appearance,  and  his  sister  SARAH 
is  very  much  one-eyed.  For  a  genteel  home-thrust,  Mr.  SLIXK- 
ERS has  few  ekals.  He  is  a  man  of  great  pluck  likewise.  He 
has  a  fierce  nostril,  and  I  b'lieve  upon  my  soul,  that  if  it 
wasn't  absolootly  necessary  for  him  to  remain  here  and  an- 
nounce in  his  paper,  from  week  to  week,  that  "  our  Gov'ment 
is  about  to  take  vig'rous  measures  to  put  down  the  rebellion  " 


124  A    WAP.  MEETING. 

• —  I  b'lieve,  upon  my  soul,  this  illustris  man  would  enlist  as  a 
Brigadier  Cin'ral,  and  git  his  Bounty. 


I  was  fixin'  myself  up  to  attend  the  great  war  meetin',  when 
my  daughter  entered  with  a  young  man  who  was  evijently 
from  the  city,  and  who  wore  long  hair,  and  had  a  wild  expres- 
sion into  his  eye.  In  one  hand  he  carried  a  port-folio,  and  his 
other  paw  claspt  a  bunch  of  small  brushes.  My  daughter  in- 
troduced him  as  Mr.  SWEIBIEK,  the  distinguished  landscape 
painter  from  Philadelphy. 

"He  is  a  artist,  papa.  Here  is  one  of  his  master-pieces  —  a 
young  mother  gazin'  admirin'ly  upon  her  first-born,"  and  my 
daughter  showed  me  a  really  pretty  picter,  done  in  ile.  "  Is 
it  not  beautiful,  papa?  He  throws  so  much  soul  into  his 
work." 

"Does  he?  does  he?"  said  I — "well,  I  reckon  I'd  better 
hire  him  to  whitewash  our  fence.  It  needs  it.  What  will 
you  charge,  sir,"  I  continued,  "  to  throw  some  soul  into  my 
fence?" 

My  daughter  went  out  of  the  room  in  very  short  meeter, 
takin'  the  artist  with  her,  and  from  the  emphatical  manner  in 
which  the  door  slam'd,  I  concluded  she  was  summat  disgusted 
at  my  remarks.  She  closed  the  door,  I  may  say,  in  italics. 
I  went  into  the  closet  and  larfed  all  alone  by  myself  for  over 
half  an  hour.  I  larfed  so  vi'lently  that  the  preserve  jars  rat- 
tled like  a  cavalry  offisser's  sword  and  things,  which  it  aroused 
my  BETSY,  who  came  and  opened  the  door  pretty  suddent. 
She  seized  me  by  the  few  lonely  hairs  that  still  linger  sadly 
upon  my  bare-footed  hed,  and  dragged  me  out  of  the  closet 
incidentally  obsarving  that  she  didn't  exactly  see  why  she 
should  be  compelled,  at  her  advanced  stage  of  life,  to  open  a 
assylum  for  sooperanooated  idiots. 

My  wife  is  one  of  the  best  wimin  on  this  continent,  altho' 
she  isn't  always  gentle  as  a  lamb,  with  mint  sauce.  No,  not 
always. 


A    WAR  MEETING.  125 

But  to  return  to  the  war  meetin'.  It  was  largely  attended. 
The  Editor  of  the  Bugle  arose  and  got  up  and  said  the  fact 
could  no  longer  be  disguised  that  we  were  involved  in  a  war. 
"  Human  gore,"  said  he,  "  is  flowin'.  All  able-bodied  men 
should  seize  a  musket  and  march  to  the  tented  field.  I  repeat 
it,  sir,  to  the  tented  field." 

A  voice  — "  Why  don't  you  go  yourself,  you  old  blow- 
hard?" 

*'  I  am  identified,  young  man,  with  a  Arkymedian  leaver 
which  moves  the  world,"  said  the  Editor,  wiping  his  auburn 
brow  with  his  left  coat-tail :  "  I  allude,  young  man,  to  the 
press.  Terms,  two  dollars  a  year,  invariably  in  advance.  Job 
printing  executed  with  neatness  and  dispatch !  "  And  with 
this  brilliant  bust  of  elekance  the  Editor  introduced  Mr.  J. 
Brutus  Hinkins,  who  is  sufferin  from  an  attack  of  College  in  a 
naberin'  place.  Mr.  Hinkins  said  Washington  was  not  safe. 
Who  can  save  our  national  capeetle  ? 

"  DAX  SETCHELL,"  I  said.  "  He  can  do  it  afternoons.  Let 
him  plant  his  light  and  airy  form  onto  the  Long  Bridge,  make 
faces  at  the  hirelin'  foe,  and  they'll  skedaddle!  Old  SETCH 
can  do  it." 

"I  call  the  Napoleon  of  Showmen,"  said  the  Editor  of 
the  JBugle,  —  a  I  call  that  Napoleonic  man,  whose  life  is 
adorned  with  so  many  noble  virtues,  and  whose  giant  mind 
lights  up  this  warlike  scene  —  I  call  him  to  order." 

I  will  remark,  in  this  connection,  that  the  Editor  of  the 
J3uyle  does  my  job  printing. 

"  You,"  said  Mr.  Hinkins,  ({ who  live  away  from  the  busy 
haunts  of  men  do  not  comprehend  the  magnitood  of  the  crisis. 
The  busy  haunts  of  men  is  where  people  comprehend  this 
crisis.  We  who  live  in  the  busy  haunts  of  men  —  that  is  to 
say,  we  dwell,  as  it  were,  in  the  busy  haunts  of  men." 

"  I  really  trust  that  the  gent'l'man  will  not  fail  to  say  suthin' 
about  the  busy  haunts  of  men  before  he  sits  down,"  said  I. 

"  I  claim  the  right  to  express  my  sentiments  here,"  said  Mr. 


120  A    WAR  MEETING. 

Hinkins,  in  a  slightly  indignant  tone,  "  and  I  shall  brook  no 
interruption,  if  I  am  a  Softmore." 

"  You  couldn't  be  more  soft,  my  young  friend,"  I  observed, 
whereupon  there  was  cries  of  "  Order  !  order  !  " 

"  I  regret  I  can't  mingle  in  this  strife  personally,"  said  the 
young  man. 

"You  might  inlist  as  a  liberty-pole,"  said  I  in  a  silvery 
whisper. 

"  But,"  ho  added,  "  I  have  a  voice,  and  that  voice  is  for 
war."  The  young  man  then  closed  his  speech  with  some  strikin 
and  original  remarks  in  relation  to  the  star-spangled  banner. 
He  was  followed  by  the  village  minister,  a  very  worthy  man 
indeed,  but  whose  sermons  have  a  tendency  to  make  people 
sleep  pretty  industriously. 

a  I  am  willin'  to  inlist  for  one,"  he  said. 

"  What's  your  weight,  parson  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  A  hundred  and  sixty  pounds,"  he  said. 

((  Well,  you  can  inlist  as  a  hundred  and  sixty  pounds  of  mor- 
phine, your  dooty  bein'  to  stand  in  the  hospitals  arter  a  battle, 
and  preach  while  the  surgical  operations  is  bein'  performed! 
Think  how  much  you'd  save  the  Gov'ment  in  morphine." 

He  didn't  seem  to  see  it ;  but  he  made  a  good  speech,  and  the 
editor  of  the  Bugle  rose  to  read  the  resolutions,  commencin'  as 
follers  : 

Resolved,  That  we  view  with  anxiety  the  fact  that  there  is 
now  a  war  goin'  on,  and 

Resolved,  That  we  believe  Stonewall  Jackson  sympathizes  with 
the  secession  movement,  and  that  we  hope  the  nine-months 
men  — 

At  this  point  he  was  interrupted  by  the  sounds  of  silvery 
footsteps  on  the  stairs,  and  a  party  of  wimin,  carryin'  guns  and 
ted  by  BETSY  JANE,  who  brandish'd  a  loud  and  rattlin'  umber- 
eller,  burst  into  the  room. 

"Here,"  cried  I,  "  are  some  nine-months  wimin  !  " 

"  Mrs.  Ward,"  said  the  editor  of  the  Buyle  —  "  Mrs.  WARD, 
and  ladies,  what  means  this  extr'ord'n'ry  demonstration  ?  " 


Artemus  is  Introduced  by  his  daughter,  to  a  distinguished  landscape  painter, 
baa  long  hair  and  a  wild  expression  In  his  eye.     Seepage  127. 


THE  DRAFT  JiY  BALDINSVILLE.  127 

11  It  means,"  said  that  remarkable  female,  li  that  you  men  air 
makin'  fools  of  yourselves.  You  air  willin'  to  talk  and  urge 
others  to  go  to  the  wars,  but  you  don't  go  to  the  wars  yourselves. 
War  meetings  is  very  nice  in  their  way,  but  they  don't  keep 
STOXEWALL  JACKSON  from  comin'  over  to  Maryland  and  helpin' 
himself  to  the  fattest  beef  critters.  What  we  want  is  more 
cider  and  less  talk.  We  want  you  able-bodied  men  to  stop 
speechifying,  which  don't  'mount  to  the  wiggle, of  a  sick  cat's 
tail,  and  go  to  fi'tin' ;  otherwise  you  can  stay  to  home  and  take 
keer  of  the  children,  while  we  wimin  will  go  to  the  wars !  " 

"  Gentl'men,"  said  I,  "  that's  my  wife  !  Go  in,  old  gal !  "  and 
I  throw'd  up  my  ancient  white  hat  in  perfeck  rapters. 

"  Is  this  roll-book  to  be  filled  up  with  the  names  of  men  or 
wimin  ?  "  she  cried. 

"  With  men  —  with  men  !  "  and  our  quoty  was  made  up  that 
very  night. 

There  is  a  great  deal  of  gas  about  these  war  meetin's.  A 
war  meetin',  in  fact,  without  gas,  would  be  suthin'  like  the  play 
of  .HAMLET  with  the  part  of  OTHELLO  omitted. 

Still  believin'  that  the  Goddess  of  Liberty  is  about  as  well 
sot  up  with  as  any  young  lady  in  distress  could  expect  to  be,  I 
am 

Yours  rnore'n  anybody  else's, 

A.  WARD. 


THE  DKAFT  IN  BALDINSYILLE. 

IF  I'm  drafted  I  shall  resign. 

Deeply  grateful  for  the  onexpected  honor  thus  confered  upon 
me  I  shall  feel  compeld  to  resign  the  position  in  favor  of  sum 
more  worthy  person.  Modesty  is  what  ?ils  me.  That's  what's 
kept  me  under. 

I  meanter-say,  I  shall  hav  to  resign  if  I'm  drafted  every  wheres 
I've  bin  inrold.  I  must  now,  furrinstuns,  be  inrold  in  npards 


128  THE  DRAFT  IN  BALDINSVILLE. 

of  200  different  towns.  If  I'd  kept  on  travelin'  I  should  hav 
eventooaly  becum  a  Brigade,  in  which  case  I  could  have  held  a 
meetin'  and  elected  myself  Brigadeer-ginral  quite  unanimiss.  I 
hadn't  no  idea  there  was  so  many  of  me  before.  But,  serisly,  I 
concluded  to  stop  exhibiting  and  made  tracks  for  Baldinsville. 

My  only  daughter  threw  herself  onto  my  boosum,  and  said, 
"  It  is  me,  fayther  !  I  thank  the  gods !  " 

She  reads  the  Ledger. 

"  Tip  us  yer  bunch  of  fives,  old  faker  ! "  said  ARTEJIUS,  Jr. 
He  reads  the  Clipper. 

My  wife  was  to  the  sowin'  circle.  I  knew  she  and  the 
wimin  folks  was  havin'  a  pleasant  time  slanderin'  the  females 
of  the  other  so  win'  circle  (which  likewise  met  that  arternoon, 
and  was  doubtless  enjoyin'  theirselves  ekally  well  in  slanderin' 
the  fust-named  circle),  and  I  didn't  send  for  her.  I  allus  like 
to  see  people  enjoy  theirselves. 

My  son  ORGUSTUS  was  playin'  onto  a  floot. 

ORGUSTUS  is  a  ethereal  cuss.  The  twins  was  bildin'  cob-houses 
in  a  corner  of  the  kitchin'. 

It'll  cost  some  postage-stamps  to  raise  this  fam'ly,  and  yet  it 
'ud  go  hard  with  the  old  man  to  lose  any  lamb  of  the  flock. 

An  old  bachelor  is  a  poor  critter.  He  may  have  hearii  the 
skylark  or  (what's  nearly  the  same  thing)  Miss  KELLOGG  and 
CARLOTTY  PATTI  sing  ;  he  may  have  hearn  OLE  BULL  fiddle, 
and  all  the  DODWORTHS  toot,  an'  yet  he  don't  know  nothiii' 
about  music  —  the  real,  ginuine  thing  —  the  music  of  the  laugh- 
ter of  happy,  well-fed  children  !  And  you  may  ax  the  father  of 
sich  children  home  to  dinner,  feelin  worry  sure  there'll  be  no 
spoons  inissin'  when  he  goes  away.  Sich  fathers  never  drop  tin 
five-cent  pieces  into  the  contribution  box,  nor  palm  shoe-pegs 
off  onto  blind  hosses  for  oats,  nor  skedaddle  to  British  sile  when 
their  country's  in  danger  —  nor  do  anything  which  is  really 
mean.  I  don't  mean  to  intimate  that  the  old  bachelor  is  up  to 
ittle  games  of  this  sort  —  not  at  all  —  but  I  repeat,  he's  a  poor 
critter.  He  don't  live  here  ;  only  stays.  He  ought  to  'pologize, 
on  behalf  of  his  parients,  for  bein'  here  at  all.  The  happy  rnar- 


THE  DRAFT  IN  BALDINSVILLE.  129 

rid  man  dies  in  good  stile  at  home,  surrounded  by  his  weeping 
wife  and  children.  The  old  bachelor  don't  die  at  all  —  he  sort 
of  rots  away,  like  a  pollywog's  tail. 


My  townsmen  were  sort  o'  demoralized.  There  was  a  evident 
desine  to  ewade  the  Draft,  as  I  obsarved  with  sorrer,  and  pat- 
ritism  was  below  Par — and  Jfar,  too.  [A  jew  desprit.  ]  I  hadn't 
no  sooner  sot  down  on  the  piazzy  of  the  tavoun  than  I  saw  six- 
teen solitary  hossmen,  ridin'  four  abreast,  wendin'  their  way  up 
the  street. 

"  What's  them  ?     Is  it  cavilry  ?  " 

"  That,"  said  the  landlord,  "  is  the  stage.  Sixteen  able- 
bodied  citizens  has  lately  bo't  the  stage  line  'tween  here  and 
Scotsburg.  That's  them.  They're  Stage-drivers.  Stage-drivers 
is  exempt !  " 

I  saw  that  each  stage-driver  carried  a  letter  in  his  left  hand. 

"  The  mail  is  hevy,  to-day,"  said  the  landlord.  tl  Gin'rally 
they  don't  have  more'n  half  a  dozen  letters  'tween  'em.  To-day 
they've  got  one  apiece  !  Bile  my  lights  and  liver  !  " 

('  And  the  passengers  ?  " 

"  There  ain't  any,  skacely,  now-days,"  said  the  landloi  J, l(  and 
what  few  there  is  very  much  prefer  to  walk,  the  roads  is  so  rough." 

"  And  how  ist  with  you  ?  "  I  inquired  of  the  editor  of  the 
Bugle-Horn  of  Liberty -,  who  sot  near  me. 

"  I  can't  go,"  he  sed,  shakin'  his  head  in  a  wise  way.  "  Or- 
dinarily I  should  delight  to  wade  in  gore,  but  my  bleediu'  coun- 
try bids  me  stay  at  home.  It  is  imperatively  necessary  that  I 
remain  here  for  the  purpuss  of  announcin'  from  week  to  week, 
that  our  Gov^ment  is  about  to  take  vigorous  measures  to  put 
down  the  rebellion  !  " 

I  strolled  into  the  village  oyster-saloon,  where  I  found  Dr. 
SCHWAZEY,  a  leadin'  citizen  in  a  state  of  mind  which  showed 
that  he'd  bin  histin'  in  more'n  his  share  of  pizen. 

"  Hello,  old  Beeswax,"  he  bellered ;  "  how's  yer  grandmams? 
When  you  goin'  to  feed  your  stuffed  animils  ?  " 
6* 


ICO  THE  DRAFT  IN  LALDINSVILLE. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  the  eminent  physician  ?  "  I  pleas- 
antly inquired. 

"  This,"  he  said  ;  "  this  is  what's  the  matter.  I'm  a  habit- 
ooal  drunkard  !  I'm  exempt !  " 

"  Jes'  so." 

"  Do  you  see  them  beans,  old  man  ?  "  and  he  pinted  to  a  plate 
before  him.  "  Do  you  see  'em  ?  " 

"  I  do.     They  are  a  cheerful  fruit  when  used  tempritly." 

u  Well,"  said  he,  fl  I  hain't  eat  anything  since  last  week.  I  eat 
beans  now  because  I  eat  beans  then.  I  never  mix  my  vittles  !  " 

li  It's  quite  proper  you  should  eat  a  little  suthin'  once  in  a 
while,"  I  said.  "  It's  a  good  idee  to  occasionally  instruct  the 
stummick  that  it  mustn't  depend  excloosively  on  licker  for  its 
sustainance." 

"  A  blessin',"  he  cried ;  "a  blessin'  onto  the  hed  of  the  man 
what  inwented  beans.  A  blessin'  onto  his  hed  !  " 

(t  Which  his  name  is  GILSON  !  He's  a  first  family  of  Bos- 
tin,"  said  I. 


This  is  a  speciment  of  how  things  was  goin'  in  my  place  of 
residence. 

A  few  was  true  blue.  The  schoolmaster  was  among  'em. 
He  greeted  me  warmly,  He  said  I  was  welkim  to  those  shores. 
He  said  I  had  a  massiv  mind.  It  was  gratifyin',  he  said,  to 
see  that  great  intelleck  stalkin'  in  their  midst  onct  more.  I 
have  before  had  occasion  to  notice  this  schoolmaster.  He 
is  evidently  a  young  man  of  far  more  than  ord'nary  talents. 

The  schoolmaster  proposed  we  should  git  up  a  mass  meetin'. 
The  meetin'  was  largely  attended.  We  held  it  in  the  open  air, 
round  a  roarin'  bonfire. 

The  schoolmaster  was  the  first  orator.  He's  pretty  good  on 
the  speak.  He  also  writes  well,  his  composition  beiii'  seldom, 
marred  by  ingramm atticisms.  He  said  this  inactivity  sur- 
prised him.  "  What  do  you  expect  will  come  of  this  kind  of 
doin's?  JVihilJlt " 


THE  DRAFT  IN  BALDINSVILLE.  131 

(l  Hooray  for  Nihil ! "  I  interrupted.  "  Fellow-citizens,  let's 
giv  three  cheers  for  Nihil,  the  man  who  fit !  " 

The  schoolmaster  turned  a  little  red,  but  repeated  — t(  Niliil 

fit? 

"Exactly,"  I  said.  "  Nihil  Jit.  He  wasn't  a  strategy  fel- 
ler." 

"  Our  venerable  friend,"  said  the  schoolmaster,  smilin'  pleas- 
antly, "  isn't  posted  in  Virgil." 

"  No,  I  don't  know  him.  But  if  he's  a  able-bodied  man  he 
must  stand  his  little  draft." 

The  schoolmaster  wound  up  in  eloquent  style,  and  the  sub- 
scriber took  the  stand. 

I  said  the  crisis  had  not  only  cum  itself,  but  it  had  brought 
all  its  relations.  It  has  cum,  I  said,  with  a  evident  intention 
of  makin'  us  a  good  long  visit.  It's  goin'  to  take  off  its  things 
and  stop  with  us.  My  wife  says  so  too.  This  is  a  good  war. 
For  those  who  like  this  war,  it's  just  such  a  kind  of  war  as 
they  like.  I'll  bet  ye.  My  wife  says  so  too.  If  the  Federal 
army  succeeds  in  takin'  Washington,  and  they  seem  to  be 
advancin'  that  way  pretty  often,  I  shall  say  it  is  strategy,  and 
Washington  will  be  safe.  And  that  noble  banner,  as  it  were 
—  that  banner,  as  it  were  —  will  be  a  emblem,  or  rather,  I 
should  say,  that  noble  banner  —  as  it  were.  My  wife  says  so 
too.  [I  got  a  little  mixed  up  here,  but  they  didn't  notice  it. 
Keep  mum.]  Feller  citizens,  it  will  be  a  proud  day  for  this 
Republic  when  Washington  is  safe.  My  wife  says  so  too. 

The  editor  of  the  Bugle-Horn  of  Liberty  hefe  arose  and 
said :  "  I  do  not  wish  to  interrupt  the  gentleman,  but  a  impor- 
tant despatch  has  just  bin  received  at  the  telegraph  office  here. 
I  will  read  it.  It  is  as  follows:  G-ov'ment  is  about  to  take 
vigorous  measures  to  put  down  the  rebellion/  [Loud  ap- 
plause.] 

That,  said  I,  is  cheering.  That's  soothing.  And  Washing- 
ton will  be  'feafe.  [Sensation.]  Philadelphia  is  safe.  Gan. 
PATTERSON'S  in  Philadelphia.  But  my  heart  bleeds  partic'ly 
for  Washington.  My  wife  says  so  too. 


132  THE  DRAFT  IN  BALDINSVILLE. 

i 

There's  money  enough.  No  trouble  about  money.  They've 
got  a  lot  of  first-class  bank-note  engravers  at  Washington 
(which  place,  I  regret  to  say,  is  by  no  means  safe)  who  turn 
out  two  or  three  cords  of  money  a  day  —  good  money,  too. 
Goes  well.  These  bank-note  engravers  made  good  wages.  I 
expect  they  lay  up  property.  They  are  full  of  Union  senti- 
ment. There  is  considerable  Union  sentiment  in  Yirginny, 
more  especially  among  the  honest  farmers  of  the  Shenandoah 
valley.  My  wife  says  so  too. 

Then  it  isn't  money  we  want.  But  we  do  want  men,  and 
we  must  have  them.  "We  must  carry  a  whirlwind  of  fire 
among  the  foe.  We  must  crush  the  ungrateful  rebels  who  are 
poundin'  the  Goddess  of  Liberty  over  the  head  with  slung- shots, 
and  stabbin'  her  with  stolen  knives  !  We  must  lick  'em  quick. 
We  must  introduce  a  large  number  of  first-class  funerals  among 
the  people  of  the  South.  Betsy  says  so,  too. 

This  war  hain't  been  too  well  managed.  We  all  know  that 
What  then  ?  We  are  all  in  the  same  boat  —  if  the  boat  goes 
down,  we  go  down  with  her.  Hence  we  must  all  fight.  It 
ain't  no  use  to  talk  now  about  who  caused  the  war.  That's 
played  out.  The  war  is  upon  us  —  upon  us  all  —  and  we  must 
all  fight.  We  can't  (( reason  "  the  matter  with  the  foe.  When, 
in  the  broad  glare  of  the  noonday  sun,  a  speckled  jackass  boldly 
and  maliciously  kicks  over  a  peanut-stand,  do  we  "  reason " 
with  him  ?  I  guess  not.  And  why  "  reason  "  with  those  other 
Southern  people  who  are  trying  to  kick  over  the  Republic  ? 
Betsy,  my  wife,  says  so  too. 

The  meeting  broke  up  with  enthusiasm. 

We  shan't  draft  in  Baldinsville  if  we  can  help  it. 


SURRENDER  OF  CORNWALLIS.  133 


SURRENDER  OF   CORNWALLIS. 

IT  was  customary  in  many  of  the  inland  towns  of  New  Eng- 
land, some  thirty  years  ago,  to  celebrate  the  anniversary  of  the 
surrender  of  Lord  Cornwallis  by  a  sham  representation  of  that 
important  event  in  the  history  of  the  Revolutionary  War.  A 
town  meeting  would  be  called,  at  which  a  company  of  men 
would  be  detailed  as  British,  and  a  company  as  Americans  — 
two  leading  citizens  being  selected  to  represent  Washington  and 
Cornwallis  in  the  mimic  surrender. 

The  pleasant  little  town  of  W ,  in  whose  schools  the 

writer  has  been  repeatedly  "  corrected,"  upon  whose  ponds  he 
has  often  skated,  upon  whose  richest  orchards  he  has,  with 
other  juvenile  bandits,  many  times  dashed  in  the  silent  mid- 
night ;  the  town  of  W ,  where  it  was  popularly  believed 

these  bandits  would  "  come  to  a  bad  end,"  resolved  to  celebrate 
the  surrender.  Rival  towns  had  celebrated,  and  W de- 
termined to  eclipse  them  in  the  most  signal  manner.  It  is  my 
privilege  to  tell  how  W succeeded  in  this  determination. 

The  great  day  came.  It  was  ushered  in  by  the  roar  of  mus- 
ketry, the  ringing  of  the  village  church  bell,  the  squeaking  of 
fifes,  and  the  rattling  of  drums. 

People  poured  into  the  village  from  all  over  the  county. 

Never  had  W experienced  such  a  jam.  Never  had  there 

been  such  an  onslaught  upon  gingerbread  carts.  Never  had 
New  England  rum  (for  this  was  before  Neal  Dow's  day)  flowed 

so  freely.  And  W 's  fair  daughters,  who  mounted  the 

house-tops  to  see  the  surrender,  had  never  looked  fairer. 
The  old  folks  came,  too,  and  among  them  were  several  war- 
scarred  heroes,  who  had  fought  gallantly  at  Monmouth  and 
Yorktown.  These  brave  sons  of  '76  took  no  part  in  the  dem- 
onstration, but  an  honored  bench  was  set  apart  for  their  exclu- 
sive use  on  the  piazza  of  Sile  Smith's  store.  When  they  were 
dry,  all  they  had  to  do  was  to  sing  out  to  Sile's  boy,  Jerry,  "  a 


134  SURRENDER  OF  CORFWALLIS. 

leetle  New  Englan'  this  way,  if  you  please."     It  was  brought 
forthwith. 

At  precisely  9  o'clock,  by  the  schoolmaster's  new  "Lepeen" 
watch,  the  American  and  British  forces  marched  on  to  the 
village  green  and  placed  themselves  in  battle  array,  reminding 
the  spectator  of  the  time  when 

' '  Brave  Wolfe  drew  up  his  mr>n 

In  a  style  most  pretty, 
On  the  Plains  of  Abraham 
Before  the  city." 

The  character  of  Washington  had  been  assigned  to  'Squire 
Wood,  a  well-to-do  and  influential  farmer,  while  that  of  Corn- 
wallis  had  been  given  to  the  village  lawyer,  a  kind-hearted  but 
rather  pompous  person,  whose  name  was  Caleb  Jones. 

'Squire  Wood,  the  Washington  of  the  occasion,  had  met  with 
many  unexpected  difficulties  in  preparing  his  forces,  and  in  his 
perplexity  he  had  emptied  not  only  his  own  canteen  but  those 
of  most  of  his  aids.  The  consequence  was  —  mortifying  as  it 
must  be  to  all  true  Americans  —  blushing  as  I  do  to  tell  it, 
Washington  at  the  commencement  of  the  mimic  struggle  was 
most  unqualifiedly  drunk. 

The  sham  fight  commenced.  Bang  !  bang  !  bang !  from  the 
Americans  —  bang  !  bang !  bang  !  from  the  British.  The  bangs 
were  kept  hotly  up  until  the  powder  gave  out,  and  then  came 
the  order  to  charge.  Hundreds  of  wooden  bayonets  flashed 
fiercely  in  the  sunlight,  each  soldier  taking  very  good  care  not 
to  hit  anybody. 

"  Thaz  (hie)  right,"  shouted  Washington,  who  during  the 
shooting  had  been  racing  his  horse  wildly  up  and  down  the 
line,  "thaz  right!  Gin  it  to  'em!  Cut  their  tarnal  heads 
off!" 

"On,  Komans!  "  shrieked  Cornwallis,  who  had  once  seen  a 
theatrical  performance  and  remembered  the  heroic  appeals  of 
the  Thespian  belligerents,  "on  to  the  fray !  No  sleep  till 
mornin'." 

"  Let  eout  all  their  bowels,"  yelled  Washington,  "  and  down 
with  taxation  on  tea  I  " 


SURRENDER  OF  CORNWALLIS.  135 

The  fighting  now  ceased,  the  opposing  forces  were  prop- 
erly arranged,  and  Cornwaliis,  dismounting,  prepared  to  pre- 
sent his  sword  to  Washington  according  to  programme.  As 
he  walked  slowly  towards  the  Father  of  His  Country  he  re- 
hearsed the  little  speech  he  had  committed  for  the  occasion, 
while  the  illustrious  being  who  was  to  hear  it  was  making 
desperate  efforts  to  keep  in  his  saddle.  Now  he  would  wildly 
brandish  his  sword  and  narrowly  escape  cutting  off  his  horse's 
ears,  and  then  he  would  fall  suddenly  forward  on  to  the  steed's 
neck,  grasping  the  mane  as  drowning  men  seize  hold  of  straws. 
He  was  giving  an  inimitable  representation  of  Toodles  on  horse- 
back. All  idea  of  the  magnitude  of  the  occasion  had  left  him, 
and  when  he  saw  Cornwaliis  approaching,  with  slow  and 
stately  step,  and  sword-hilt  extended  toward  him,  he  inquired, 

"  What-'n  devil  you  want,  any  (hie)  how !  " 

"General  AVashington,"  said  Cornwaliis,  in  dignified  and 
impressive  tones,  "  I  tender  you  my  sword.  I  need  not  inform 
you,  Sir,  how  deeply  — 

The  speech  was  here  suddenly  cut  short  by  Washington, 
who,  driving  the  spurs  into  his  horse,  playfully  attempted  to 
run  over  the  commander  of  the  British  forces.  He  was  not 
permitted  to  do  this,  for  his  aids,  seeing  his  unfortunate  condi- 
tion, seized  the  horse  by  the  bridle,  straightened  Washington 
up  in  his  saddle,  and  requested  Cornwaliis  to  proceed  with  his 
remarks. 

"  General  Washington,"  said  Cornwaliis,  "  the  British  Lion 
prostrates  himself  at  the  feet  of  the  American  Eagle  !  " 

"  Eagle  ?  EAGLE  !  "  yelled  the  infuriated  Washington,  roll- 
ing off  his  horse  and  hitting  Cornwaliis  a  frightful  blow  on  the 
head  with  the  flat  of  his  sword,  "  do  you  call  me  a  Eafjle^  you 
mean,  sneakin'  cuss  ?  "  He  struck  him  again,  sending  him  to 
the  ground,  and  said,  "  I'll  learn  you  to  call  me  a  Eagle,  you  in- 
fernal scoundrel !  " 

Cornwaliis  remained  upon  the  ground  only  a  moment. 
Smarting  from  the  blows  he  had  received,  he  arose  with  an  en- 
tirely unlocked  for  recuperation  on  the  part  of  the  fallen,  and 


136  SURRENDER  OF  CORNWALLIS. 

in  direct  defiance  of  historical  example ;  in  spite  of  the 
men  of  both  nations,  indeed,  he  whipped  the  Immortal  Wash- 
ington until  he  roared  for  mercy. 

The  Americans,  at  first  mortified  and  indignant  at  the  con- 
duct of  their  chief,  now  began  to  sympathize  with  him,  and 
resolved  to  whip  their  mock  foes  in  earnest.  They  rushed 
fiercely  upon  them,  but  the  British  were  really  the  stronger 
party  and  drove  the  Americans  back.  Not  content  with  this 
they  charged  madly  upon  them  and  drove  them  from  the 
field —  from  the  village,  in  fact.  There  were  many  heads  dam- 
aged, eyes  draped  in  mourning,  noses  fractured  and  legs  lamed 
—  it  is  a  wonder  that  no  one  was  killed  outright. 

Washington  was  confined  to  his  house  for  several  weeks,  but 
he  recovered  at  last.  For  a  time  there  was  a  coolness  between 
himself  and  Cornwallis,  but  they  finally  concluded  to  join  the 
whole  county  in  laughing  about  the  surrender. 

They  live  now.  Time,  the  "  artist,"  has  thoroughly  white- 
washed their  heads,  but  they  are  very  jolly  still.  On  town- 
meeting  days  the  old  'Squire  always, rides  down  to  the  village. 
In  the  hind  part  of  his  venerable  yellow  wagon  is  always  a 
bunch  of  hay,  ostensibly  for  the  old  white  horse,  but  really  to 
hide  a  glass  bottle  from  the  vulgar  gaze.  This  bottle  has  on 
one  side  a  likeness  of  Lafayette,  and  upon  the  other  may  be 
seen  the  Goddess  of  Liberty.  What  the  bottle  contains  inside 
I  cannot  positively  say,  but  it  is  true  that  'Squire  Wood  and 
Lawyer  Jones  visit  that  bottle  very  frequently  on  town-meet- 
ing days  and  come  back  looking  quite  red  in  the  face.  When 
this  redness  in  the  face  becomes  of  the  blazing  kind,  as  it  gen- 
erally does  by  the  time  the  polls  close,  a  short  dialogue  like  this 
may  be  heard. 
»  ct  We  shall  never  play  surrender  again,  Lawyer  Jones  !  " 

"  Them  days  is  over,  'Squire  Wood  !  " 

And  then  they  laugh  and  jocosely  punch  each  other  in  the 
ribs. 


THINGS  IN  NEW  YORK.  137 


THINGS   IN   NEW  YORK. 

THE  stooclent  and  connyseer  must  have  noticed  and  admired 
in  vans  parts  of  the  United  States  of  America  large  yeller 
hanbills,  which  not  only  air  gems  of  art  in  theirselves,  but  they 
troothfully  sit  forth  the  attractions  of  my  show  —  a  show,  let 
me  here  obsarve,  that  contains  many  livin'  wild  animils,  every 
one  of  which  has  got  a  Beautiful  Moral. 

Them  hanbills  is  sculpt  in  New  York. 

<fc  I  annoolly  repair  here  to  git  some  more  on  'urn ; 

&,  bein'  here,  I  tho't  I'd  issoo  a  Address  to  the  public  on 
matters  and  things. 

Since  last  I  meyandered  these  streets,  I  have  bin  all  over 
the  Pacific  Slopes  and  Utah.  I  cum  back  now,  with  my  virtoo 
unimpared,  but  I've  got  to  git  some  new  clothes. 

Many  changes  has  taken  place,  even  durin'  my  short  absence, 
&  sum  on  um  is  Sollum  to  contempulate.  The  house  in  Var- 
ick  street,  where  I  used  to  Board,  is  bein'  torn  down.  That 
house,  which  was  rendered  memoriable  by  my  livin'  into  it,  is 
"  parsin'  away !  parsin'  away  !  "  But  some  of  the  timbers  will 
be  made  into  canes,  which  will  be  sold  to  my  admirers  at  the 
low  price  of  one  dollar  each.  Thus  is  changes  goin'  011  contin- 
erly.  In  the  New  World  it  is  war  —  in  the  Old  World  Em- 
pires is  totterin'  &  Dysentaries  is  crumblin'.  These  canes  is 
cheap  at  a  dollar. 

Sammy  Booth,  Duane  street,  sculps  my  hanbills,  <fc  he's  a 
artist.  He  studid  in  Rome  —  State  of  New  York. 

I'm  here  to  read  the  proof-sheets  of  my  hanbils  as  fast  as 
they're  sculpt.  You  have  to  watch  these  ere  printers  pretty 
close,  for  they're  jest  as  apt  to  spel  a  wurd  rong  as  anyhow. 

But  I  have  time  to  look  round  sum  &  how  do  I  find  tilings  ? 
I  return  to  the  Atlantic  States  after  a  absence  of  ten  months, 
&  what  State  do  I  find  the  country  in  ?  Why  I  don't  know 


138  THINGS  IN  NEW  YORK. 

what  State  I  find  it  in.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  I  do  not  find  it 
in  the  State  of  New  Jersey. 

There  air  other  cheerin'  signs  for  Arneriky.  We  don't,  for 
instuns,  lack  great  Gen'rals,  and  we  certinly  don't  lack  brave 
sojers  —  but  there's  one  thing  I  wish  we  did  lack,  and  that  is 
our  present  Congress. 

I  venture  to  say  that  if  you  sarch  the  earth  all  over  with  a 
ten-hoss  power  mikriscope,  you  won't  be  able  to  find  such  ano- 
ther pack  of  poppycock  gabblers  as  the  present  Congress  of 
the  United  States  of  America  would  be  able  to  find  —  find 
among  their  constituents. 

Gentlemen  of  the  Senit  &  of  the  House,  you've  sot  there  and 
draw'd  your  pay  and  made  summer-complaint  speeches  long 
enuff.  The  country  at  large,  incloodin'  the  undersined,  is  dis- 
gusted with  you.  Why  don't  you  show  us  a  statesman  —  sum- 
body  who  can  make  a  speech  that  will  hit  the  pop'lar  hart 
right  under  the  Great  Public  weskit  ?  Why  don't  you  show 
us  a  statesman  who  can  rise  up  to  the  Emergency,  and  cave  in 
the  Emergency's  head  ? 

Congress,  you  won't  do.  Go  home,  you  mizzerable  devils  — 
go  home ! 

At  a  special  Congressional  'lection  in  my  district  the  other 
day  I  delib'ritly  voted  for  Henry  Clay.  I  admit  that  Henry 
is  dead,  but  inasmuch  as  we  don't  seem  to  have  a  live  states- 
man in  our  National  Congress,  let  us  by  all  means  have  a  first- 
class  corpse. 

Them  who  think  that  a  cane  made  from  the  timbers  of  the 
house  I  once  boarded  in  is  essenshal  to  their  happiness,  should 
not  delay  about  sendin'  the  money  right  on  for  one. 

My  reported  captur  by  the  North  American  savijis  of  Utah, 
led  my  wide  circle  of  friends  and  creditors  to  think  that  I  had 
bid  adoo  to  earthly  things  and  was  a  angel  playin'  on  a  golden 
harp.  'Hents  my  rival  home  was  onexpected. 

It  was  11,  P.  M.,  when  I  reached  my  homestid  and  knockt  a 
healthy  knock  on  the  door  thereof. 


THINGS  IN  NEW  YORK.  139 

A  nightcap  thmsted  itself  out  of  the  front  chamber  winder. 
(It  \vas  my  Betsy's  nightcap.)  And  a  voice  said : 

*  \Vhoisit?" 

"  It  is  a  Man !  "  I  answered,  in  a  gmff  vois. 

"  I  don't  b'lieve  it !  "  she  sed. 

"  Then  come  down  and  search  me,"  I  replied. 

Then  resumin'  my  nat'ral  voice,  I  said,  lt  It  is  your  own  A. 
\V.,  Betsy !  Sweet  lady,  wake !  Ever  of  thou !  " 

u  Oh,"  she  said,  "  it's  you,  is  it  ?  I  thought  I  smelt  some- 
thing." 

But  the  old  girl  was  glad  to  see  me. 

In  the  mornin'  I  found  that  my  family  were  entertainin'  a 
artist  from  Philadelphy,  who  was  there  paintin'  some  startlin' 
water-falls  and  mountins,  and  I  morin  suspected  he  had  a  hank- 
erin'  for  my  oldest  dauter. 

"  Mr.  Skimmerhorn,  father,"  sed  my  dauter. 

"  Glad  to  see  you,  Sir !  "  I  replied  in  a  hospittle  vois.  "  Glad 
to  see  you." 

"  He  is  an  artist,  father,"  sed  my  child. 

"A  whichist?" 

"  An  artist.     A  painter." 

"And  glazier,"  I  askt.  "Air  you  a  painter  and  glazier, 
sir?" 

My  dauter  and  wife  was  mad,  but  I  couldn't  help  it;  I  felt 
in  a  comikil  mood. 

"It  is  a  wonder  to  me,  Sir,"  said  the  artist,  "considerin' 
what  a  wide-spread  reputation  you  have,  that  some  of  our  East- 
ern managers  don't  secure  you." 

(t  It's  a  wonder  to  me,"  said  I  to  my  wife,  "  that  somebody 
don't  secure  him  with  a  chain." 

After  breakfast  I  went  over  to  town  to  see  my  old  friends. 
The  editor  of  the  Bugle  greeted  me  cordyully,  and  showed  me 
the  follerin'  article  he'd  just  written  about  the  paper  on  the 
other  side  of  the  street : 

"  We  have  recently  put  up  in  our  office  an  entirely  new 
sink,  of  unique  construction  —  with  two  holes  through  which 


140  IN  CANADA. 

the  soiled  water  may  pass  to  the  new  bucket  underneath. 
What  will  the  hell-hounds  of  The  Advertiser  say  to  this? 
"We  shall  continue  to  make  improvements  as  fast  as  our  rapidly 
increasing  business  may  warrant.  Wonder  whether  a  certain 
editor's  wife  thinks  she  can  palm  off  a  brass  watch-chain  on 
this  community  for  a  gold  one  ?  " 

"  That,"  says  the  Editor,  "  hits  him  whar  he  lives.  That 
will  close  him  up  as  bad  as  it  did  when  I  wrote  an  article  ridi- 
cooling  his  sister,  who's  got  a  cock-eye." 

A  few  days  after  my  return  I  was  shown  a  young  man,  who. 
says  he'll  be  Dam  if  he  goes  to  the  war.  He  was  settin'  on  a 
barrel,  &  was  indeed  a  Loathsum  objeck. 

Last  Sunday  I  heard  Parson  Batkins  preach,  and  the  good 
old  man  preached  well,  too,  tho'  his  prayer  was  ruther  lengthy. 
The  Editor  of  the  Bugle,  who  was  with  me,  said  that  prayer 
would  make  fifteen  squares,  solid  nonparil. 

I  don't  think  of  nothin'  more  to  write  about.  So,  tc  B'leeve 
me  if  all  those  endearing  young  charms,"  &c.,  &c. 

A.  WARD. 


IN  CANADA, 

I'M  at  present  existin'  under  a  monikal  form  of  Cov'ment. 
In  other  words  I'm  travelin'  among  the  crowned  heds  of  Can- 
ady.  They  ain't  pretty  bad  people.  On  the  cont'ry,  they  air 
exceedin'  good  people. 

Troo,  they  air  deprived  of  many  blessins.  They  don't  enjoy, 
for  instans,  the  priceless  boon  of  a  war.  They  haven't  any 
American  Egil  to  onchain,  and  they  hain't  got  a  Fourth  of 
July  to  their  backs. 

Altho'  this  is  a  monikal  form  of  Gov'ment,  I  am  enable  to 
perceeve  much  moniky.  I  tried  to  git  a  piece  in  Toronto,  but 
failed  to  succeed. 


lo f  The  poor  Reft  man  and  a  "pretty  waiter  girl."    Seepage  141. 


IN  CANADA.  141 

Mrs.  VICTORIA,  who  is  Queen  of  England,  and  has  all  the 
luxuries  of  the  markets,  incloodin'  game  in  its  season,  don't 
bother  herself  much  about  Canadj,  but  lets  her  do  'bout  as  she's 
mighter.  She,  however,  gin'rally  keeps  her  supplied  with  a 
lord,  who's  called  a  Gov'ner  Gin'ral.  Sometimes  the  politicians 
of  Canady  make  it  lively  for  this  lord  —  for  Canady  has  politi- 
cians, and  I  expect  they  don't  differ  from  our  politicians,  some 
of  'em  bein'  gifted  and  talented  liars,  no  doubt. 

The  present  Gov'ner  Gin'ral  of  Canady  is  Lord  MONK.  I 
saw  him  review  some  volunteers  at  Montreal.  He  was  accom- 
panied by  some  other  lords  and  dukes  and  generals  and  those 
sort  of  things.  He  rode  a  little  bay  horse,  and  his  close  wasn't 
any  better  than  mine.  You'll  always  notiss,  by  the  way,  that 
the  higher  up  in  the  world  a  man  is,  the  less  good  harness  he 
puts  on.  Hence  Gin'ral  HALLECK  walks  the  streets  in  plain 
citizen's  dress,  while  the  second  lieutenant  of  a  volunteer  regi- 
ment piles  all  the  brass  things  he  can  find  onto  his  back,  and 
drags  a  forty-pound  sword  after  him. 

MONK  has  been  in  the  lord  bisuiss  some  time,  and  I  under- 
stand it  pays,  tho'  I  don't  know  what  a  lord's  wages  is.  The 
wages  of  sin  is  death  and  postage  stamps.  But  this  has  noth- 
ing to  do  with  MONK. 

One  of  Lord  MONK'S  daughters  rode  with  him  on  the  field. 
She  has  golden  hair,  a  kind,  good  face,  and  wore  a  red  hat.  I 
should  be  very  happy  to  have  her  pay  me  and  my  family  a  visit 
at  Baldmsville.  Come  and  bring  your  knittin',  Miss  MONK. 
Mrs.  WARD  will  do  the  fair  thing  by  you.  She  makes  the 
best  slap-jacks  in  America.  As  a  slap-jackist,  she  has  no  ekal. 
She  wears  the  Belt. 

What  the  review  was  all  about,  I  don't  know.  I  haven't  a 
gigantic  intelleck,  which  can  grasp  great  questions  at  onct.  I 
am  not  a  WEBSTER  or  a  SEYMOUR.  I  am  not  a  WASHINGTON 
or  a  OLD  ABE.  Fur  from  it.  I  am  not  as  gifted  a  man  as 
HENRY  WARD  BEECHER.  Even  the  congregation  of  Plymouth 
Meetin'-House  in  Brooklyn  will  admit  that.  Yes,  I  should 
think  so.  But  while  I  don't  have  the  slitest  idee  as  to  what 


14:2  £#•  CANADA. 

the  review  was  fur,  I  will  state  that  the  sojers  looked  pooty 
scrumptious  in  their  red  and  green  close. 

Come  with  me,  jentle  reader,  to  Quebeck.  Quebeck  was 
surveyed  and  laid  out  by  a  gentleman  who  had  been  afflicted 
with  the  delirium  tremens  from  childhood,  and  hence  his  idees 
of  things  was  a  little  irreg'ler.  The  streets  don't  lead  any- 
wheres in  partic'ler,  but  everywheres  in  gin'ral.  The  city  is 
bilt  on  a  variety  of  perpendicler  hills,  each  hill  bein'  a  trifle 
wuss  nor  t'other  one.  Quebeck  is  full  of  stone  walls,  and 
arches,  and  citadels  and  things.  It  is  said  no  foe  could  ever 
git  into  Quebeck,  and  I  guess  they  couldn't.  And  I  don't  see 
what  they'd  want  to  get  in  there  for. 

Quebeck  has  seen  lively  times  in  a  warlike  way.  The 
French  and  Britishers  had  a  set-to  there  in  1759.  JIM  WOLFE 
commanded  the  latters,  and  Jo.  MONTCALM  the  formers.  Both 
were  hunky  boys,  and  fit  nobly.  But  WOLFE  was  too  many 
measles  for  MONTCALM,  and  the  French  was  slew'd.  WOLFE 
and  MONTCALM  was  both  killed.  In.  arter  years  a  common 
monyment  was  erected  by  the  gen'rous  people  of  Quebeck, 
aided  by  a  bully  Earl  named  GEORGE  DALHOUSIE,  to  these 
noble  fellows.  That  was  w^ell  done. 

Durin'  the  Revolutionary  War  B.  ARNOLD  made  his  way, 
through  dense  woods  and  thick  snows,  from  Maine  to  Quebeck, 
which  it  was  one  of  the  hunkiest  things  ever  done  in  the  mili- 
tary line.  It  would  have  been  better  if  B.  ARNOLD'S  funeral 
had  come  off  immeditly  on  his  arrival  there. 

On  the  Plains  of  Abraham  there  was  onct  some  tall  fitin', 
and  ever  since  then  there  has  been  a  great  demand  for  the 
bones  of  the  slew'd  011  that  there  occasion.  But  the  real  gin- 
ooine  bones  was  long  ago  carried  off,  and  now  the  boys  make 
a  hansum  thing  by  cartin'  the  bones  of  hosses  and  sheep  out 
there,  and  sellin'  em  to  intelligent  American  towerists.  Takin' 
a  perfessional  view  of  this  dodge,  I  must  say  that  it  betrays 
genius  of  a  lorfty  character. 

It  reminded  me  of  a  inspired  feet  of  my  own.  I  used  to 
exhibit  a  wax  figger  of  HENRY  WILKINS,  the  Boy  Murderer. 


IF  CAJTAVA.  143 

HENRY  had,  in  a  moment  of  inadvertence,  killed  his  Uncle 
EPHRAM  and  walked  off  with  the  old  man's  money.  Well, 
this  stattoo  was  lost  somehow,  and  not  sposin'  it  would  make 
any  particler  difference  I  substitooted  the  full-grown  stattoo  of 
one  of  my  distinguished  piruts  for  the  Boy  Murderer.  One 
night  I  exhibited  to  a  poor  but  honest  audience  in  the  town 
of  Stoneham,  Maine.  "  This,  ladies  and  gentlemen,"  said  I, 
pointing  my  umbrella  (that  weapon  which  is  indispensable  to 
every  troo  American)  to  the  stattoo,  "  this  is  a  life-like  wax 
figger  of  the  notorious  HENRY  WILKINS,  who  in  the  dead  of 
night  murdered  his  Uncle  EPHRAM  in  cold  blood.  A  sad  warn- 
ing to  all  uncles  havin'  murderers  for  nephews.  When  a  mere 
child  this  HENRY  WILKINS  was  compelled  to  go  to  the  Sunday- 
school.  He  carried  no  Sunday-school  book.  The  teacher  told 
him  to  go  home  and  bring  one.  He  went  and  returned  with 
a  comic  song-book.  A  depraved  proceedinV 

"  But,"  says  a  man  in  the  audience,  "  when  you  was  here 
before  your  wax  figger  represented  HENRY  WILKIXS  as  a  boy. 
Now,  HENRY  was  hung,  and  yet  you  show  him  to  us  now  as  a 
full-grown  man  !  How's  that  ?  " 

"  The  figger  has  growd,  sir  — it  has  growd,"  I  said. 

I  was  angry.  If  it  had  been  in  these  times  I  think  I  should 
have  informed  agin  him  as  a  traitor  to  his  flag,  and  had  him 
put  in  Fort  Lafayette. 

I  say  adoo  to  Quebeck  with  regret.  It  is  old  fogyish,  but 
chock  full  of  interest.  Young  gentlemen  of  a  romantic  turn  of 
mind,  who  air  botherin'  their  heads  as  to  how  they  can  spend 
their  father's  money,  had  better  see  Quebeck. 

Altogether  I  like  Canady.  Good  people  and  lots  of  pretty 
girls.  I  wouldn't  mind  comin'  over  here  to  live  in  the  capacity 
of  a  Duke,  provided  a  vacancy  occurs,  and  provided  further  I 
could  be  allowed  a  few  star-spangled  banners,  a  eagle,  a  boon 
of  liberty,  etc. 

Don't  think  I've  skedaddled.  Not  at  all.  I'm  coming  home 
in  a  week. 

Let's  have  the  Union  restored  as  it  was,  if  we  can ;  but  if 


14-i  THE  NOBLE  RED  MAN. 

i 

we  can't,  Tm  in  favor  of  the    Union  as  it  wasii't.     But  the 
Union,  anyhow. 

Gentlemen  of  the  editorial  corpse,  if  you  would  be  happy  be 
virtoous  !     I  who  am  the  emblem  of  virtoo,  tell  you  so. 

(Signed,)         "A.  WARD." 


THE   NOBLE   RED   MAN. 

THE  red  man  of  the  forest  was  form'ly  a  very  respectful  per- 
son. Justice  to  the  noble  aboorygine  warrants  me  in  sayin' 
that  orrigernerly  he  was  a  majestic  cuss. 

At  the  time  CHRIS,  arrove  on  these  shores  (I  allood  to  CHRIS. 
COLUMBUS),  the  savajis  was  virtoous  and  happy.  They  were 
innocent  of  secession,  rum,  draw-poker,  and  sinfulness  gin'- 
rally.  They  didn't  discuss  the  slavery  question  as  a  custom. 
They  had  no  Congress,  faro  banks,  delirium  tremens,  or  As- 
sociated Press.  Their  habits  was  consequently  good.  Late 
suppers,  dyspepsy,  gas  companies,  thieves,  ward  politicians, 
pretty  waiter-girls,  and  other  metropolitan  refinements,  were 
unknown  among  them.  No  savage  in  good  standing  would 
take  postage-stamps.  You  couldn't  have  bo't  a  coon  skin  with 
a  barrel  of  'em.  The  female  Aboorygine  never  died  of  con- 
sumption, because  she  didn't  tie  her  waist  up  in  whale -bone 
things ;  but  in  loose  and  flowin'  garments  she  bounded,  with 
naked  feet,  over  hills  and  plains,  like  the  wild  and  frisky  an- 
telope. It  was  a  onlucky  moment  for  us  when  CHRIS,  sot  his 
foot  onto  these  'ere  shores.  It  would  have  been  better  for  us 
of  the  present  day  if  the  injins  had  given  him  a  warm  meal 
and  sent  him  home  ore  the  ragin'  billers.  For  the  savages 
owned  the  country,  and  COLUMBUS  was  a  filibuster.  CORTEZ, 
PIZARRO,  and  WALKER  were  one-horse  fillibusters  —  COLUMBUS 
was  a  four-horse  team  fillibuster,  and  a  large  yaller  dog  under 


ARTEMUS   WARD  IN  RICHMOND.  145 

the  waggin.  I  say,  in  view  of  the  mess  we  are  makin'  of 
things,  it  would  have  been  better  for  us  if  COLUMBUS  had  staid 
to  home.  It  would  have  been  better  for  the  show  bisniss. 
The  circulation  of  VANITY  FAIR  would  be  larger,  and  the  pro- 
prietors would  all  have  boozum  pins  !  Yes,  sir,  and  perhaps 
a  ten-pin  alley. 

By  which  I  don't  wish  to  be  understood  as  intimatin'  that 
the  scalpin'  wretches  who  are  in  the  injin  bisniss  at  the 
present  day  are  of  any  account,  or  calculated  t^'  make  home 
happy,  specially  the  Sioxes  of  Minnesoty,  who  desarve  to  be 
murdered  in  the  first  degree,  and  if  POPE  will  only  stay  in  St. 
Paul  and  not  go  near  'em  himself,  I  reckon  they  will  be. 


ARTEMUS  WARD  IN  RICHMOND. 

RICHMOND,  VA.,  May— 18  &  65. 
OLONZO   WARD. 

AFORE  I  comments  this  letter  from  the  late  rebil  capitol  I 
desire  to  cimply  say  that  I  hav  seen  a  low  and  skurrilus  noat 
in  the  paper  from  a  certin  purson  who  singes  hisself  Olonzo 
"Ward,  &  sez  he  is  my  berruther.  I  did  once  hav  a  berruther 
of  that  name,  but  I  do  not  recugnise  him  now.  To  me  he  is 
wuss  than  ded !  I  took  him  from  collige  sum  16  years  ago 
and  gave  him  a  good  situation  as  the  Bearded  Woman  in  my 
Show.  How  did  he  repay  me  for  this  kindness  ?  He  basely 
undertook  (one  day  while  in  a  Backynalian  mood  on  rum  & 
right  in  sight  of  the  aujience  in  the  tent)  to  stand  upon  his 
hed,  whareby  he  betray 'd  his  sex  on  account  of  his  boots  &  his 
Beard  fallin'  off  his  face,  thus  rooinin'  my  prospecks  in  that 
town,  &  likewise  incurrin'  the  seris  displeasure  of  the  Press, 
which  sed  boldly  I  was  triflin  with  the  feelin's  of  a  intelligent 
7 


14:6  ARTEMUS  WARD  IN  RICHMOND. 

public.  I  know  no  such  man  as  Olonzo  Ward.  I  do  not  ever 
wish  his  name  breathed  in  my  presents.  I  do  not  recognize 
him.  I  perfectly  disgust  him. 

RICHMOND. 

The  old  man  finds  hisself  once  more  in  a  Sunny  climb.  I 
cum  here  a  few  days  arter  the  city  catterpillertulated. 

My  naburs  seemed  surprised  &  astonisht  at  this  darin'  brav- 
ery onto  the  part  of  a  man  at  my  time  of  life,  but  our  family 
was  never  know'd  to  quale  in  danger's  stormy  hour. 

My  father  was  a  sutler  in  the  Kevolootioii  War.  My  father 
once  had  a  iutervoo  with  Gin'ral  La  Fayette. 
•  He  asked  La  Fayette  to  lend  him  five  dollars,  promisin'  to 
pay  him  in  the  Fall;  but  Lafy  said  "he  couldn't  see  it  in 
those  lamps."  Lafy  was  French,  and  his  knowledge  of  our 
langwidge  was  a  little  shaky. 

Jmmejutly  on  my  'rival  here  I  perceeded  to  the  Spots  wood 
House,  and  callin'  to  my  assistans  a  young  man  from  our  town 
who  writes  a  good  runnin'  hand,  I  put  my  ortograph  011  the 
Register,  and  handin'  my  umbrella  to  a  bald-heded  man  behind 
the  counter,  who  I  s'posed  was  Mr.  Spotswood,  I  said,  "  Spotsy, 
how  does  she  run  ?  " 

He  called  a  cullud  purson,  and  said, 

"  Show  the  gen'lman  to  the  cowyard,  and  giv'  him  cart  num- 
ber 1." 

"Isn't  Grant  here?"  I  said.  "Perhaps  Ulyssis  wouldn't 
mind  my  turnin'  in  with  him." 

"  Do  you  know  the  Gin'ral  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Spotswood. 

<c  Wall,  no,  not  'zacky ;  but  he'll  remember  me.  His  brother- 
in-law's  Aunt  bought  her  rye  meal  of  my  uncle  Levi  all  one 
winter.  My  uncle  Levi's  rye  meal  was " 

"  Pooh !  pooh !  "  said  Spotsy,  "  don't  bother  me,"  and  he 
shuv'd  my  umbrella  onto  the  floor.  Obsarvin'  to  him  not  to 
be  so  keerless  with  that  wepin,  I  accompanid  the  African  to 
my  lodgins, 


AMTEMUS  WARD  IN  RICHMOND.  147 

"  My  brother,"  I  sed,  "  air  you  aware  that  you've  bin  'man- 
cipated  ?  Do  you  realise  how  glorus  it  is  to  be  free  ?  Tell 
me,  my  dear  brother,  does  it  not  seem  like  some  dreams,  or  do 
you  realise  the  great  fact  in  all  its  livin'  and  holy  magni- 
tood?" 

He  sed  he  would  take  some  gin. 

I  was  show'd  to  the  cowyard  and  laid  down  under  a  one- 
mule  cart.  The  hotel  was  orful  crowded,  and  I  was  sorry  I 
hadn't  gone  to  the  Libby  Prison.  Tho'  I  should  hav'  slept 
comf 'ble  enuff  if  the  bed-clothes  hadn't  bin  pulled  off  me 
durin'  the  night,  by  a  scoundrul  who  cum  and  hitched  a  mule 
to  the  cart  and  druv  it  off.  I  thus  lost  my  cuverin',  and  my 
throat  feels  a  little  husky  this  mornin'. 

Gin'ral  Hulleck  offers  me  the  hospitality  of  the  city,  givin' 
me  my  choice  of  hospitals. 

He  has  also  very  kindly  placed  at  my  disposal  a  small-pox 
amboolance. 

UNION    SENTIMENT. 

There  is  raly  a  great  deal  of  Union  sentiment  in  this  city. 
I  see  it  on  ev'ry  hand. 

I  met  a  man  to-day  —  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  tell  his  name, 
but  he  is  a  old  and  inflooentooial  citizen  of  Richmond,  and  sez 
he,  "  Why !  we've  bin  fightin'  agin  the  Old  Flag !  Lor'  bless 
me,  how  sing'lar !  "  He  then  borrer'd  five  dollars  of  me  and 
bust  into  a  flood  of  teers. 

Sed  another  (a  man  of  standin'  and  formerly  a  bitter  reb- 
uel),  "Let  us  at  once  stop  this  effooshun  of  Bind!  The  Old 
Flag  is  good  enuff  for  me.  Sir,"  he  added,  "  you  air  from  the 
North !  Have  you  a  doughnut  or  a  piece  of  custard  pie  about 
you?" 

I  told  him  no,  but  I  knew  a  man  from  Vermont  who  had 
just  organized  a  sort  of  restaurant,  where  he  could  go  and 
make  a  very  comfortable  breakfast  on  New  England  rum  and 
cheese.  He  borrowed  fifty  cents  of  me,  and  askin'  me  to  send 


148  ARTEMUS   WARD  IN  RICHMOND. 

him  Win.  Lloyd  Garrison's  ambrotype  as  soon  as  I  got  home, 
he  walked  off. 

Said  another,  "There's  bin  a  tremenduous  Union  feelin' 
here  from  the  fust.  But  we  was  kept  down  by  a  rain  of 
terror.  Have  you  a  dagerretype  of  Wendell  Phillips  about 
your  person  ?  and  will  you  lend  me  four  dollars  for  a  few  days 
till  we  air  once  more  a  happy  and  united  people." 


JEFF.  DAVIS. 

Jeff.  Davis  is  not  pop'lar  here.  She  is  regarded  as  a  South- 
ern sympathiser.  &  yit  I'm  told  he  was  kind  to  his  Parents. 
She  ran  away  from  'em  many  years  ago,  and  has  never  bin 
back.  This  was  showin'  'em  a  good  deal  of  consideration 
when  we  refleck  what  his  conduck  has  been.  Her  captur  in 
female  apparel  confooses  me  in  regard  to  his  sex,  &  you  see  I 
speak  of  him  as  a  her  as  frekent  as  otherwise,  &  I  guess  he 
feels  so  hisself. 

R.  LEE. 

Robert  Lee  is  regarded  as  a  noble  feller. 

He  was  opposed  to  the  war  at  the  fust,  and  draw'd  his  sword 
very  reluctant.  In  fact,  he  wouldn't  hav'  drawd  his  sword  at 
all,  only  he  had  a  large  stock  of  military  clothes  on  hand, 
which  he  didn't  want  to  waste.  He  sez  the  colored  man  is 
right,  and  he  will  at  once  go  to  New  York  and  open  a  Sabbath 
School  for  negro  minstrels. 

THE    CONFEDERATE    ARMY. 

The  surrender  of  R.  Lee,  J.  Johnston  and  others  leaves  the 
Confedrit  Army  in  a  ruther  shattered  state.  That  army  now 
consists  of  Kirby  Smith,  four  mules  and  a  Bass  drum,  and  is 
movin'  rapidly  to'rds  Texis. 


ARTEMU8   WARD  IN  RICHMOND.  149 


A    PROUD    &ST>    HAWTY    SUTHESER. 

Feelin'  a  little  peckish,  I  went  into  a  eatin'  house  to-day, 
and  encountered  a  young  man  with  long  black  hair  and  slender 
frame.  He  didn't  wear  much  clothes,  and  them  as  he  did  wear 
looked  onhealthy.  He  frowned  on  me,  and  sed,  kinder  scorn- 
ful, "  So,  Sir  —  you  come  here  to  taunt  us  in  our  hour  of  trouble, 
do  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  I,  "  I  cum  here  for  hash  !  " 

"  Pish-haw  !  "  he  sed  sneerinly,  "  I  mean  you  air  in  this  city 
for  the  purpuss  of  gloatin'  over  a  fallen  peple.  Others  may 
basely  succumb,  but  as  for  me,  I  will  never  yield  — never, 
never  !  " 

ct  Hav'  suthin'  to  eat !  "  I  pleasantly  suggested. 

"  Tripe  and  onions  !  "  he  sed  furcely ;  then  he  added,  "  I 
eat  with  you,  but  I  hate  you.  You're  a  low-lived  Yankee !  " 

To  which  I  pleasantly  replied,  "  How'l  you  have  your 
tripe  ?  " 

"  Fried,  mudsill !  with  plenty  of  ham-fat !  " 

He  et  very  ravenus.  Poor  feller !  He  had  lived  on  odds 
and  ends  for  several  days,  eatin'  crackers  that  had  bin  turned 
over  by  revelers  in  the  bread  tray  at  the  bar. 

He  got  full  at  last,  and  his  hart  softened  a  little  to'ards  me. 
t(  After  all,"  he  sed,  "  you  hav  sum  peple  at  the  North  who  air 
not  wholly  loathsum  beasts  ?  " 

"  Well,  yes,"  I  sed,  "  we  hav'  now  and  then  a  man  among  us 
who  isn't  a  cold-bluded  scoundril.  Young  man,  "  I  mildly  but 
gravely  sed,  "  this  crooil  war  is  over,  and  you're  lickt !  It's 
rather  necessary  for  sumbody  to  lick  in  a  good  square,  lively 
fite,  and  in  this  'ere  case  it  happens  to  be  the  United  States  of 
America.  You  fit  splendid,  but  we  was  too  many  for  you. 
Then  make  the  best  of  it,  &  let  us  all  give  in  and  put  the  Re- 
public on  a  firmer  basis  nor  ever. 

"  1  don't  gloat  over  your  misfortins,  my  young  fren'.  Fur  from 
it.  I'm  a  old  man  now,  &  my  hart  is  softer  nor  it  once  was. 
You  see  my  spectacles  is  misten'd  with  suthin'  very  like  tears. 


150     ARTEMUS  WARD  TO  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES. 

I'm  thinkin'  of  the  sea  of  good  rich  Bind  that  has  been  spilt  on 
both  sides  in  this  dredful  war !  I'm  thinkin'  of  our  widders 
and  orfuns  North,  and  of  your'n  in  the  South.  I  kin  cry  for 
both.  B'leeve  me,  my  young  fren',  I  kin  place  my  old  hands 
tenderly  on  the  fair  yung  hed  of  the  "Virginny  maid  whose 
lover  was  laid  low  in  the  battle  dust  by  a  fed'ral  bullet,  and 
say,  as  fervently  and  piously  as  a  vener'ble  sinner  like  me  kin 
say  anythin',  God  be  good  to  you,  my  poor  dear,  my  poor 
dear." 

I  riz  up  to  go,  &  takin'  my  yung  Southern  fren',  kindly  by 
the  hand,  I  sed,  tc  Yung  man,  adoo  !  You  Southern  fellers  is 
probly  my  brothers,  tho'  you've  occasionally  had  a  cussed 
queer  way  of  showin'  it!  It's  over  now.  Let  us  all  jine  in 
and  make  a  country  on  this  continent  that  shall  giv'  all  Europe 
the  cramp  in  the  stummuck  ev'ry  time  they  look  at  us  !  Adoo, 
adoo  !  " 

And  as  I  am  through,  I'll  likewise  say  adoo  to  you,  jentle 
reader,  merely  remarkin'  that  the  Star-Spangled  Banner  is  wa- 
vin'  round  loose  agin,  and  that  there  don't  seem  to  be  anything 
the  matter  with  the  Goddess  of  Liberty  beyond  a  slite  cold. 

ARTEMUS  WARD. 


ARTEMUS  WARD  TO  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES. 

FRIEND  WALES,  —  You  remember  me.  I  saw  you  in  Canady 
a  few  years  ago.  I  remember  you  too.  I  seldim  forgit  a  per- 
son. 

I  hearn  of  your  marrige  to  the  Printcis  Alexandry,  &  ment 
ter  writ  you  a  congratoolatory  letter  at  the  time,  but  I've 
bin  bildin  a  barn  this  summer,  &  hain't  had  no  time  to  write 
letters  to  folks.  Excoose  me. 

Numeris  changes  has  tooken  place  since  we  met  in  the  body 
politic.  The  body  politic,  in  fack,  is  sick.  I  sumtimes  think 
it  has  got  biles,  friend  Wales. 

In  my  country  we've  got  war,  while  your  country,  in  con- 


ARTEXUS  WARD  TO  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES.    151 

junktion  with  Cap'n  Sems  of  the  Alobarmy,  manetanes  a  noo- 
trol  position ! 

I'm  fraid  I  can't  write  goaks  when  I  sit  about  it.  Oh  no  I 
guess  not ! 

Yes,  Sir,  we've  got  a  war,  and  the  troo  Patrit  has  to  make 
sacrifisses,  you  bet. 

I  have  alreddy  given  two  cousins  to  the  war,  &  I  stand  reddy 
to  sacrifiss  my  wife's  brother  ruther'n  not  see  the  rebelyin 
krusht.  And  if  wuss  cums  to  wuss  I'll  shed  ev'ry  drop  of 
blud  my  able-bodied  relations  has  got  to  prosekoot  the  war 
I  think  sumbody  oughter  be  prosekooted,  &  it  may  as  well  be 
the  war  as  any  body  else.  When  I  git  a  goakin  fit  onto  me 
it's  no  use  to  try  ter  stop  me. 

You  heam  about  the  draft,  friend  Wales,  no  doubt.  It  causd 
sum  squirmin',  but  it  was  fairly  conducted,  I  think,  for  it  hit 
all  classes.  It  is  troo  that  Wendill  Phillips,  who  is  a  American 
citizen  of  African  scent,  'scaped,  but  so  did  Vallandiggum,  who 
is  Conservativ,  and  who  wus  resuntly  sent  South,  tho'  he  would 
have  bin  sent  to  the  Dry  Tortoogus  if  Abe  had  'sposed  for  a 
minit  that  the  Tortoogusses  would  keep  him. 

We  hain't  "got  any  daily  paper  in  our  town,  but  we've  got 
a  female  sewin'  circle,  which  ansers  the  same  purpuss,  and  we 
wasn't  long  in  suspents  as  to  who  was  drafted. 

One  young  man  who  was  drawd  claimed  to  be  exemp  because 
he  was  the  only  son  of  a  widow'd  mother  who  supported  him. 
A  few  able-bodid  dead  men  was  drafted,  but  whether  their  heirs 
will  have  to  pay  3  hundrid  dollars  a  peace  for  'em  is  a  question 
for  Whitin',  who  'pears  to  be  tinkerin'  lip  this  draft  bizniss 
right  smart.  I  hope  he  makes  good  wages. 

I  think  most  of  the  conscrips  in  this  place  will  go.  A  few 
will  go  to  Canady,  stoppin'  on  their  way  at  Concord,  N.  H., 
where  I  understan  there  is  a  Muslum  of  Harts. 

You  see  I'm  sassy,  friend  Wales,  hittin'  all  sides;  but  no 
offense  is  ment.  You  know  I  ain't  a  politician,  and  never  was- 
I  vote  for  Mr.  Union  —  that's  the  only  candidate  I've  got.  I 
claim,  howsever,  to  have  a  well  balanced-mind  ;  tho'  my  idees 


152    ARTEMUS  WARD  TO  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES. 

of  a  well-balanced  inind  differs  from  th?,  idees  of  a  partner  I 
once  had,  whose  name  it  was  Billson.  Billsoii  and  me  orjan- 
ized  a  strollin'  dramatic  company,  &  we  played  The  Drunkard, 
or  the  Falling  Saved,  with  a  real  drunkard.  The  play  didn't 
take  particlarly,  and  says  Billson  to  me,  Let's  giv  'em  some  im- 
moral dramy.  We  had  a  large  troop  onto  our  hands,  consisting 
of  eight  tragedians  and  a  bass  drum,  but  I  says,  No,  Billson ; 
and  then  says  I,  Billson,  you  hain't  got  a  well-balanced  mind. 
Says  he,  Yes,  I  have,  old  hoss-fly  (he  was  a  low  cuss)  —  yes,  I 
have.  I  have  a  mind,  says  he,  that  balances  in  any  direction 
that  the  public  rekires.  That's  wot  I  calls  a  well-balanced  mind. 
I  sold  out  and  bid  adoo  to  Billson.  He  is  now  an  outcast  in 
the  State  of  Vermont.  The  miser'ble  man  once  played  Hamlet. 
There  wasn't  any  orchestry,  and  wishin'  to  expire  to  slow  inoo- 
sic,  he  died  playin'  on  a  claironett  himself,  interspersed  with 
hart-rendin'  groans,  &  such  is  the  world  !  Alars  !  alars !  how 
onthankful  we  air  to  that  Providence  which  kindly  allows  us 
to  live  and  borrow  money,  and  fail  and  do  bizniss  ! 

But  to  return  to  our  subjeck.  With  our  resunt  grate  triumps 
on  the  Mississippi,  the  Father  of  Waters  (and  them  is  waters 
no  Father  need  feel  'shamed  of  —  twig  the  wittikism  ?),  and  the 
cheerin'  look  of  things  in  other  places,  I  reckon  we  shan't  want 
any  Muslum  of  Harts.  And  what  upon  airth  do  the  people  of 
Concord,  N.  H.,  want  a  Muslum  of  Harts  for  ?  Hain't  you  got 
the  State  House  now  ?  &  what  more  do  you  want  ? 

But  all  this  is  furrin  to  the  purpuss  of  this  note,  arter  all. 
My  objeck  in  now  addressin'  you  is  to  giv  you  sum  adwice,  frienp 
Wales,  about  managin'  your  wife,  a  bkniss  I've  had  over  thirty 
years  experience  in. 

You  had  a  good  weddiii.  The  papers  hav  a  good  deal  to  say 
about  "  vikins  "  in  connexion  tharewith.  Not  knowings  what 
that  air,  and  so  I  frankly  tells  you,  my  noble  lord  dook  of  the 
throne,  I  can't  zackly  say  whether  we  hab  'em  or  not.  We 
was  both  very  much  flustrated.  But  I  never  injoyed  myself 
better  in  my  life. 

Dowtless,  your  supper  was  ahead  of  our'n.    As  regards  eatin' 


"'he  miserable  man  once  played  Hamlet,  and  expired  to  slow  music    (produced  by 
himself  as  there  was  no  orchestra).     See  page  152. 


ARTEMUS  WARD  TO  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES.     153 

uses,  Baldinsville  was  allers  shaky.  But  you  can  git  a  good 
meal  in  New  York,  &  cheap  to.  You  can  git  half  a  mackril 
at  Delmonico's  or  Mr.  Mason  Dory's  for  six  dollars,  and  biled 
pertaters  throw'd  in. 

As  I  sed,  I  manige  my  wife  without  any  particler  trouble. 
When  I  fust  commenst  trainin'  her  I  institooted  a  series  of  ex- 
periments, and  them  as  didn't  work  I  abanding'd.  You'd  bet- 
ter do  similer.  Your  wife  may  objeck  to  gittin'  \ip  and  bildin' 
the  fire  in  the  niornin',  but  if  you  commence  with  her  at  once 
TOM  may  be  able  to  overkum  this  prejoodiss.  I  regret  to  obsarve 
lat  I  didn't  commence  arly  enuff.  I  wouldn't  have  you  s'pose 
I  was  ever  kicked  out  of  bed.  Not  at  all.  I  simply  say,  in  regard 
to  bildin'  fires,  that  I  didn't  commence  arly  enufl*.  It  was  a 
ruther  cold  mornin'  when  I  fust  proposed  the  idee  to  Betsy. 
It  wasn't  well  received,  and  I  found  myself  layin'  on  the  floor 
putty  suddent.  I  thought  I  git  up  and  bild  the  fire  myself. 

Of  course  now  you're  marrid  you  can  eat  onions.  I  allus 
did,  and  if  I  know  my  own  hart,  I  allus  will.  My  daughter, 
who  is  goin'  on  17  and  is  frisky,  says  they's  disgustin.  And  speak- 
in  of  my  daughter  reminds  me  that  quite  a  number  of  young  men 
have  suddenly  discovered  that  I  'in  a  very  entertainin'  old  feller, 
and  they  visit  us  frekently,  specially  on  Sunday  evenins.  One 
young  chap  —  a  lawyer  by  habit  —  don't  cum  as  much  as  he  did. 
My  wife's  father  lives  with  us.  His  intelleck  totters  a  little,  and 
he  saves  the  papers  containin'  the  proceedins  of  our  State  Legis- 
later.  The  old  gen'l'man  likes  to  read  out  loud,  and  he  reads  tol'- 
ble  well.  He  eats  hash  freely,  which  makes  his  voice  clear ;  but 
as  he  onfortnitly  has  to  spell  the  most  of  his  words,  I  may  say 
he  reads  slow.  Wall,  whenever  this  lawyer  made  his  appear- 
ance I  would  set  the  old  man  a-readin  the  Legislativ'  reports,.  I 
kept  the  young  lawyer  up  one  night  till  12  o'clock  listenin  to 
a  lot  of  acts  in  regard  to  a  draw-bridge  away  orf  in  the  east  part 
of  the  State,  havin'  sent  my  daughter  to  bed  at  half-past  8.  He 
hasn't  bin  there  since,  and  I  understan'  he  says  I  go  round  swind- 
lin'  the  Public. 

I  never  attempted  to  reorganize  my  wife  but  onct.  I  shall 
7* 


154    ARTEMUS  WARD  TO  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES. 

never  attempt  agin.  I'd  bin  to  a  public  dinner,  and  had  allowed 
myself  to  be  betrayed  into  drinkin'  several  people's  healths  ;  and 
wishin'  to  make  'em  as  robust  as  possible,  I  continnerd  drinkin' 
their  healths  until  my  own  became  affected.  Consekens  was,  I 
presented  myself  at  Betsy's  bedside  late  at  night  with  consid'ble 
licker  concealed  about  my  person.  I  had  sumhow  got  perseshun 
of  a  hosswhip  on  my  way  home,  and  rememberin'  sum  cranky 
observations  of  Mrs.  Ward's  in  the  mornirx',  I  snapt  the  whip 
putty  lively,  and,  in  a  very  loud  woice,  I  said,  "  Betsy,  you 
need  reorganizin'  !  I  have  cum,  Betsy,"  I  continued  —  crackin' 
the  whip  over  the  bed  —  "I  have  cum  to  reorganize  you  !  Ha- 
ave  you  per-ayed  to-night  ?  " 

******* 

I  dream'd  that  sumbody  had  laid  a  hosswhip  over  me  sev'ril 
conseckootiv  times ;  and  when  I  woke  up  I  found  she  had.  I 
hain't  drank  much  of  anythin'  since,  and  if  I  ever  have  another 
reorganizin'  job  on  hand  I  shall  let  it  out. 

My  wife  is  52  years  old,  and  has  allus  sustaned  a  good  char- 
acter. She's  a  good  cook.  Her  mother  lived  to  a  vener'ble 
age,  and  died  while  in  the  act  of  frying  slap-jacks  for  the  County 
Commissioners.  And  may  no  rood  hand  pluk  a  flour  from  her 
toomstun  !  We  hain't  got  any  picter  of  the  old  lady,  because 
she'd  never  stand  for  her  ambrotipe,  and  therefore  I  can't  giv  her 
likeness  to  the  world  through  the  meejum  of  the  illusterated 
papers ;  but  as  she  wasn't  a  brigadier-gin'ral,  particlerly,  I  don't 
s'pose  they'd  publish  it,  any  how. 

It's  best  to  give  a  woman  consid'ble  lee-way.  But  not  too 
much.  A  naber  of  mine,  Mr.  Koofus  Minkins,  was  once  very 
sick  with  the  fever,  but  his  wife  moved  his  bed  into  the  door-yard 
while  she  was  cleanin'  house.  I  toald  Roofus  this  wasn't  the 
tiling,  'specially  as  it  was  rainiii'  vi'lently  ;  but  he  said  he  wanted 
to  giv  his  wife  "  a  little  lee-way."  That  was  2  mutch.  I  told 
Mrs.  Minkins  that  her  Koofus  would  die  if  he  staid  out  there 
into  the  rain  much  longer ;  when  she  said,  "  It  shan't  be  my 
fault  if  he  dies  unprepared,"  at  the  same  time  tossin'  him  his 
mother's  Bible.  It  was  orful  !  I  stood  by,  however,  and 


ARTEMUS  WARD  TO  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES.     155 

missed  him  as  well's  I  could,  but  I  was  a  putty  wet-miss,  I  tell 
you. 

There's  varis  ways  of  managin'  a  wife,  friend  Wales,  but  the 
best  and  only  safe  way  is  to  let  her  do  jist  about  as  she  wants 
to.  I  'dopted  that  there  plan  sum.  time  ago,  and  it  works  like  a 
charm. 

Remember  me  kindly  to  Mrs.  Wales,  and  good  luck  to  you 
both  !  And  as  years  roll  by,  and  accidents  begin  to  happen  to 
you  —  among  which  I  hope  there'll  be  Twins  —  you  will  agree 
with  me  that  family  joys  air  the  only  ones  a  man  can  bet  on 
with  any  certinty  of  winnin'. 

It  may  interest  you  to  know  that  I'm  prosperin'  in  a  pecoon- 
ery  pint  of  view.  I  make  'bout  as  much  in  the  course  of  a  year 
as  a  cab'net  offisser  does,  &  I  understand  my  business  a  good 
deal  better  than  sum  of  them  do. ' 

B-especks  to  St.  George  &  the  Dragon. 

Ever  be  'appy 
A.  WARD. 


III. 

STOEIES    AND     EOMANCES. 


MOSES  THE   SASSY;   OR,  THE   DISGUISED   DUKE. 


CHAPTER   I. — ELIZY. 

MY  story  opens  in  the  classic  presinks  of  Bostin.  In  the 
parler  of  a  bloated  aristocratic  mansion  on  Bacon  street 
sits  a  luvly  young  lady,  whose  hair  is  cuverd  ore  with  the 
frosts  of  between  17  Summers.  She  has  just  sot  down  to 
the  piany,  and  is  warblin  the  popler  ballad  called  "  Smells 
of  the  Notion,"  in  which  she  tells  how,  with  pensiv  thought, 
she  wandered  by  a  C  beat  shore.  The  son  is  settin  in  its 
horizon,  and  its  gorjus  light  pores  in  a  golden  meller  flud 
through  the  winders,  and  makes  the  young  lady  twict  as  beau- 
tiful nor  what  she  was  before,  which  is  onnecessary.  She  is 
magnificently  dressed  up  in  a  Berage  basque,  with  poplin 
trimmins,  More  Antique,  Ball  Morals  and  3  ply  carpet- 
ing. Also,  considerable  gauze.  Her  dress  contains  16  floun- 
ders and  her  shoes  is  red  morocker,  with  gold  spangles  onto 


158  MOSES  THE  SASSY. 

them.  Presently  she  jumps  up  with  a  wild  snort,  and  pressin 
her  hands  to  her  brow,  she  exclaims:  "Methinks  I  see  a 
voice ! " 

A  noble  youth  of  27  summers  enters.  .  He  is  attired  in  a 
red  shirt  and  black  trowsis,  which  last  air  turned  up  over  his 
boots ;  his  hat,  which  it  is  a  plug,  being  cockt  onto  one  side 
of  his  classical  hed.  In  sooth,  he  was  a  heroic  lookin  person, 
with  a  fine  shape.  Grease,  in  its  barmiest  days,  near  projuced 
a  more  hefty  cavileer.  Gazin  upon  him  admirinly  for  a  spell, 
Elizy  (for  that  was  her  name)  organized  herself  into  a  tabloo, 
and  stated  as  follers. 

"  Ha  !  do  me  eyes  deceive  me  earsight  ?  Is  it  some  dreams  ? 
No,  I  reckon  not !  That  frame !  them  store  close !  those 
nose  !  Yes,  it  is  me  own,  me  only  Moses  !  " 

He  (Moses)  folded  her  to  his  hart,  with  the  remark  that  he 
was  "  a  hunkey  boy." 


CHAPTER   II. WAS   MOSES    OF   NOBLE    BIRTH? 

Moses  was  foreman  of  Engine  Co.  No.  40.  Forty's  fellers 
had  just  bin  havin  an  annual  reunion  with  Fifty's  fellers,  on 
the  day  I  introduce  Moses  to  my  readers,  and  Moses  had  his 
arms  full  of  trofees,  to  wit :  4  scalps,  5  eyes,  3  fingers,  7  ears, 
(which  he  chawed  off)  and  several  half  and  quarter  sections  of 
noses.  When  the  fair  Elizy  recovered  from  her  delight  at 
meetin  Moses,  she  said:  —  "How  hast  the  battle  gonest? 
Tell  me !  " 

"  We  chawed  'em  up  —  that's  what  we  did  ! "  said  the  bold 
Moses. 

"  I  thank  the  gods  !  "  sed  the  fair  Elizy.  "  Thou  did'st 
excellent  well.  And,  Moses,"  she  continnered,  layin  her  hed 


MOSES  THE  SASSY.  159 

confidinly  agin  his  weskit,  t(  dost  know  I  sum  times  think  thou 
istest  of  noble  birth  ?  " 

"  No  !  "  said  he,  wildly  ketchin  hold  of  hisself.  "  You 
don't  say  so  !  " 

"  Indeed  do  I !  Your  dead  grandfather's  sperrit  comest  to 
me  the  tother  night." 

"  Oh  no,  I  guess  it's  a  mistake,"  sed  Moses. 

"  I'll  bet  two  dollars  and  a  quarter  he  did  !  "  replied  Elizy. 
"  He  said,  '  Moses  is  a  Disguised  Juke  ! ' ' 

"  You  mean  Duke,"  said  Moses. 

"  Dost  not  the  actors  all  call  it  Juke  ?  "  said  she. 

That  settled  the  matter. 

"  I  hav  thought  of  this  thing  afore,"  said  Moses,  abstractedly. 
"  If  it  is  so,  then  thus  it  must  be  !  2  B  or  not  2  B  !  Which? 
Sow,  sow  !  But  enuff.  O  life  !  life  !  —  you're  too  many  for 
me  !  "  He  -tore  out  some  of  his  pretty  yeller  hair,  stampt  on 
the  floor  sevril  times,  and  was  gone. 


CHAPTER    III. THE    PIRUT   FOILED. 

Sixteen  long  and  weary  years  has  elapst  since  the  seens 
narrated  in  the  last  chapter  took  place.  A  noble  ship,  the 
Sary  Jane,  is  a  sailin  from  France  to  Ameriky  via  the  Wabash 
Canal.  A  pirut  ship  is  in  hot  pursoot  of  the  Sary.  The  pirut 
capting  isn't  a  man  of  much  principle  and  intends  to  kill  all 
the  people  on  bored  the  Sary  and  confiscate  the  wallerbles. 
The  capting  of  the  S.  J.  is  on  the  pint  of  givin  in,  when  a  fine 
lookin  feller  in  russet  boots  and  a  buffalo  overcoat  rushes 
forored  and  obsarves : 

"  Old  man  !  go  down  stairs  !  Retire  to  the  starbud  bulk- 
hed  !  I'll  take  charge  of  this  Bote  !  " 

<f  Owdashus  cuss  !  "  yelled  the  capting,  "  away  with  thee  or  I 
shall  do  mur-rer-der-r-r  !  " 

"  Skurcely,"  obsarved  the  stranger,  and  he  drew  a  diamond- 


160  MOSES  THE  SASSY. 

hilted  fish-knife  and  cut  orf  the  capting's  hed.  He  expired 
shortly,  his  last  words  bein,  (f  we  are  governed  too  much." 

"  People !  "  sed  the  stranger,  « I'm  the  Juke  d'Moses  !  " 

"  Old  hoss !  "  sed  a  passenger,  "  methinks  thou  art  bio  win  ! ' 
whareupon  the  Juke  cut  orf  his  lied  also. 

"  Oh  that  I  should  live  to  see  myself  a  dead  body!  "  screamed 
the  unfortnit  man.  "  But  don't  print  any  verses  about  my 
deth  in  the  newspapers,  for  if  you  do  I'll  haunt  ye !  " 

"People!  "  sed  the  Juke,  "I  alone  can  save  you  from  yon 
bloody  pirut !  Ho  !  a  peck  of  oats  !  "  The  oats  was  brought, 
and  the  Juke,  boldly  mountin  the  jibpoop,  thro  wed  them  onto 
the  towpath.  The  pirut  rapidly  approached,  chucklin  with 
fiendish  delight  at  the  idee  of  increasin  his  ill-gotten  gains. 
But  the  leadin  hoss  of  the  pirut  ship  stopt  suddeiit  on  cornin 
to  the  oats,  and  commenst  for  to  devour  them.  In  vain  the 
piruts  swore  and  throwd  stones  and  bottles  at  the  hoss  —  he 
wouldn't  budge  a  inch.  Meanwhile  the  Sary  Jane,  her 
hosses  on  the  full  jump,  was  fast  leavin  the  pirut  ship  ! 

"Onct  agin  do  I  escape  deth  !  "  sed  the  Juke  between  hi 
clencht  teeth,  still  on  the  jibpoop. 


The  Juke  was  Moses  the  Sassy  !     Yes,  it  was  ! 

He  had  bin  to  France  and  now  he  was  home  agin  in  Bostin, 
which  gave  birth  to  a  Bunker  Hill !  !  He  had  some  trouble 
in  gitting  hisself  acknowledged  as  Juke  in  France,  as  the 
Orleans  Dienasty  and  Borebones  were  fernest  him,  but  he 
finally  conkered.  Elizy  knowd  him  right  off,  as  one  of  his  ears 
and  a  part  of  his  nose  had  bin  chawed  off  in  his  fights  with 
opposition  firemen  durin  boyhood's  sunny  hours.  They  lived 
to  a  green  old  age,  beloved  by  all,  both  grate  and  small.  Their 
children,  of  which  they  have  numerous,  often  go  up  onto  the 
Common  and  see  the  Fountain  squirt. 


"OH     THAT     I     SHOULD     LIVE     TO     SEE    MYSELF    A     DED    BODY 
SCREAMED    THE    UNFORTNET  MAN.       [See    Page    160.] 


MARION.  161 

This  is  my  1st  attempt  at  writin  a  Tail  &  it  is  far  from  bein 
perfeck,  but  if  I  have  indoosed  folks  to  see  that  in  9  cases  out 
of  10  they  can  either  make  life  as  barren  as  the  Desert  of 
Sarah,  or  as  joyous  as  a  flower  garding,  my  object  will  have 
been  accomplished,  and  more  too. 


MARION: 

A   ROMANCE   OF    THE    FRENCH    SCHOOL. 

I. 

,  Friday, ,  1860. 

ON  the  sad  sea  shore!  Always  to  hear  the  moaning  of 
these  dismal  waves  ! 

Listen.  I  will  tell  you  my  stoiy  —  my  story  of  love,  of 
misery,  of  black  despair. 

I  am  a  moral  Frenchman. 

She  whom  I  adore,  whom  I  adore  still,  is  the  wife  of  a  fat 
Marquis  —  a  lop-eared,  blear-eyed,  greasy  Marquis.  A  man 
without  soul.  A  man  without  sentiment,  who  cares  naught 
for  moonlight  and  music.  A  low,  practical  man,  who  pays 
his  debts.  I  hate  him. 


II. 

She,  my  soul's  delight,  my  empress,  my  angel,  is  superbly 
beautiful. 

I  loved  her  at  first  sight  —  devotedly,  madly. 

She  dashed  past  me  in  her  coupe.  I  saw  her  but  a  moment 
—  perhaps  only  an  instant  —  but  she  took  me  captive  then  and 
there,  forevermore. 

Forevermore ! 


162  MAEION. 

"  I  followed  her,  after  that,  wherever  she  went.  At  length 
she  came  to  notice,  to  smile  upon  me.  My  motto  was  en 
avant !  That  is  a  French  word.  I  got  it  out  of  the  back  part 
of  Worcester's  Dictionary. 


III. 

She  wrote  me  that  I  might  come  and  see  her  at  her  own 
house.  Oh,  joy,  joy  unutterable,  to  see  her  at  her  own 
house  ! 

I  went  to  see  her  after  nightfall,  in  the  soft  moonlight. 

She  came  down  the  gravelled  walk  to  meet  me,  on  this  beau- 
tiful midsummer  night  —  came  to  me  in  pure  white,  her  golden 
hair  in  splendid  disorder  —  strangely  beautiful,  yet  in  tears  ! 

She  told  me  her  fresh  grievances. 

The  Marquis,  always  a  despot,  had  latterly  misused  her  most 
vilely. 

That  very  morning,  at  breakfast,  he  had  cursed  the  fishballs 
and  sneered  at  the  pickled  onions. 

She  is  a  good  cook.  The  neighbors  will  tell  you  so.  And 
to  be  told  by  the  base  Marquis-  —  a  man  who,  previous  to  his 
marriage,  had  lived  at  the  cheap  eating-houses  —  to  be  told 
by  him  that  her  manner  of  frying  fishballs  was  a  failure  —  it 
was  too  much. 

Her  tears  fell  fast.  I  too  wept.  I  mixed  my  sobs  with 
her'n.  "  Fly  with  me  !  "  I  cried. 

Her  lips  met  mine.  I  held  her  in  my  arms.  I  felt  her 
breath  upon  my  cheek  !  It  was  Hunkey. 

"  Fly  with  me.  To  New  York  !  I  will  write  romances 
for  the  Sunday  papers  —  real  French  romances,  with  morals  to 
them.  My  style  will  be  appreciated.  Shop  girls  and  young 
mercantile  persons  will  adore  it,  and  I  will  amass  wealth  with 
my  ready  pen." 

Ere  she  could  reply  —  ere  she  could  articulate  her  ecstasy, 
her  husband,  the  Marquis,  crept  snake-like  upon  me. 


A  ROMANCE—  WILLIAM  BARKER  163 

Shall  I  write  it?  He  kicked  ine  out  of  the  garden  —  lie 
kicked  me  into  the  street. 

I  did  not  return.  How  could  I  ?  I,  so  ethereal,  so  full  of 
soul,  of  sentiment,  of  sparkling  originality  !  He,  so  gross,  so 
practical,  so  lop-eared  ! 

Had  I  returned,  the  creature  would  have  kicked  me  again. 

So  I  left  Paris  for  this  place  —  this  place,  so  lonely,  so 
dismal. 

Ah  me! 

Oh  dear ! 


A  ROMANCE.  — WILLIAM    BARKER,   THE  YOUNG 
PATRIOT. 


I. 

"  No,  William  Barker,  you  cannot  have  my  daughter's  hand 
in  marriage  until  you  are  her  equal  in  wealth  and  social  posi- 
tion." 

The  speaker  was  a  haughty  old  man  of  some  sixty  years,  and 
the  person  whom  he  addressed  was  a  fine-looking  young  man 
of  twenty-five. 

With  a  sad  aspect  the  young  man  withdrew  from  the  stately 
mansion. 


II. 

Six  months  later  the  young  man  stood  in  the  presence  of  the 
haughty  old  man. 

"  What !  you  here  again  ?  "  angrily  cried  the  old  man. 

"Ay,  old  man,"  proudly  exclaimed  William  Barker.  "I 
am  here,  your  daughter's  equal  and  yours  ?  " 

The  old  man's  lips  curled  with  scorn.  A  derisive  smile  lit 
up  his  cold  features ;  when,  casting  violently  upon  the  marble 


164:  A  ROMANCE—  THE  CONSCRIPT. 

centre  table  an  enormous  roll  of  greenbacks,  William.  Barker 
cried  — 

"  See !  Look  on  this  wealth.  And  I've  tenfold  more ! 
Listen,  old  man !  You  spurned  me  from  your  door.  But  I 
did  not  despair.  I  secured  a  contract  for  furnishing  the  Army 
of  the with  beef " 

"  Yes,  yes !  "  eagerly  exclaimed  the  old  man. 

" and  I  bought  up  all  the  disabled  cavalry  horses  I 

could  find " 

ft  I  see !  I  see  !  "  cried  the  old  man.  "  And  good  beef  they 
make,  too." 

li  They  do  !  they  do !  and  the  profits  are  immense." 

"  I  should  say  so  !  " 

"  And  now,  sir,  I  claim  your  daughter's  fair  hand !  " 

"  Boy,  she  is  yours.  But  hold !  Look  me  in  the  eye. 
Throughout  all  this  have  you  been  loyal  ?  " 

"  To  the  core !  "  cried  William  Barker. 

"  And,"  continued  the  old  man,  in  a  voice  husky  with  emo- 
tion, "  are  you  in  favor  of  a  vigorous  prosecution  of  the  war  ?  " 

"  I  am,  I  am  !  " 

((  Then,  boy,  take  her !  Maria,  child,  come  hither.  Your 
William  claims  thee.  Be  happy,  my  children !  and  whatever 
our  lot  in  life  may  be,  let  us  all  support  the  Government !  " 


A  ROMANCE.  — THE  CONSCRIPT. 

[Which  may  bother  the  reader  a  little  unless  he  is  familiar  with  the  music  of  the  day.] 
CHAPTER   I. 

PHILANDER  REED  struggled  with  spool-thread  and  tape  in  a 
dry-goods  store  at  Ogdensburgh,  on  the  St.  Lawrence  River, 
State  of  New  York.  He  Rallied  Round  the  Flag,  Boys,  and 


A  ROMANCE— THE  CONSCRIPT.  165 

Hailed  Columbia  every  time  she  passed  that  way.  One  day  a 
regiment  returning  from  the  war  Came  Marching  Along,  bring- 
ing An  Intelligent  Contraband  with  them,  who  left  the  South 
about  the  time  Babylon  was  a-Fallin',  and  when  it  was  appar- 
ent to  all  well-ordered  minds  that  the  Kingdom  was  Coming, 
accompanied  by  the  Day  of  Jubiloo.  Philander  left  his  spool- 
thread  and  tape,  rushed  into  the  street,  and  by  his  Long-Tail 
Blue,  said,  "  Let  me  kiss  him  for  his  Mother."  Then,  with 
patriotic  jocularity,  he  inquired,  "  How  is  your  High  Daddy  in 
the  Morning?  "  to  which  Pomp  of  Cudjo's  Cave  replied,  "  That 
poor  Old  Slave  has  gone  to  rest,  we  ne'er  shall  see  him  more  ! 
But  IT.  S.  G.  is  the  man  for  me,  or  Any  Other  Man."  Then 
he  Walked  Round. 

"  And  your  Master,"  said  Philander,  (( where  is  he  ?  " 

"Massa's  in  the  cold,  cold  ground  —  at  least  I  hope  so!" 
said  the  gay  contraband. 

';  March  on,  March  on!  all  hearts  rejoice!"  cried  ihe 
Colonel,  who  was  mounted  on  a  Bob-tailed  nag — on  which,  in 
times  of  Peace,  my  soul,  O  Peace !  he  had  betted  his  money. 

"  Yaw,"  said  a  German  Bold  Sojer  Boy,  "  we  don't-fights- 
mit-Segel  as  much  as  we  did." 

The  regiment  marched  on,  and  Philander  betook  himself  to 
his  mother's  Cottage  Near  the  Banks  of  that  Lone  River,  and 
rehearsed  the  stirring  speech  he  was  to  make  that  night  at  a 
war  meeting. 

"  It's  just  before  the  battle,  Mother,"  he  said,  "  and  I  want 
to  say  something  that  will  encourage  Grant." 


CHAPTER    II. MABEL. 

Mabel  Tucker  was  an  orphan.  Her  father,  Dan  Tucker, 
was  run  over  one  day  by  a  train  of  cars,  though  he  needn't 
have  been,  for  the  kind-hearted  engineer  told  him  to  Git  Out 
of  the  Way. 

Mabel  early  manifested  a  marked  inclination  for  the  milli- 


166  A  ROMANCE— THE  CONSCRIPT. 

nery  business,  and  at  the  time  we  introduce  her  to  our  readers 
she  was  Chief  Engineer  of  a  Millinery  Shop  and  Boss  of  a  Sew- 
ing Machine. 

Philander  Reed  loved  Mabel  Tucker,  and  Ever  of  her  was 
Fondly  Dreaming ;  and  she  used  to  say,  "  Will  you  love  me 
Then  as  Now  ?  "  to  which  he  would  answer  that  he  would,  and 
without  the  written  consent  of  his  parents. 

She  sat  in  the  parlor  of  the  Cot  where  she  was  Born,  one 
Summer's  eve,  with  pensive  thought,  when  Somebody  came 
Knockin^  at  the  Door.  It  was  Philander.  Fond  Embrace  and 

O 

things.  Thrilling  emotions.  P.  very  pale  and  shaky  in  the 
legs.  Also,  sweaty. 

"  Where  hast  thou  been  ?  "  she  said.  "  Hast  been  gathering 
shells  from  youth  to  age,  and  then  leaving  them  like  a  che-eild  ? 
Why  this  tremors?  Why  these  Sadfulness  ?  " 

(l  Mabeyuel !  "  he  cried,  "  Mabeyuel !  They've  Drafted  me 
into  the  Army !  " 

An  Orderly  Sergeant  now  appears  and  says,  a  Come,  Phil- 
ander, let's  be  a-marching ;  "  and  he  tore  her  from  his  embrace 
(P.'s)  and  marched  the  conscript  to  the  Examining  Surgeon's 
office. 

Mabel  fainted  in  two  places.  It  was  worse  than  Brothers 
Fainting  at  the  Door. 


CHAPTER   III. THE    CONSCRIPT. 

Philander  Reed  hadn't  three  hundred  dollars,  being  a  dead- 
broken  Reed,  so  he  must  either  become  one  of  the  noble  Band 
who  are  Coming,  Father  Abraham,  three  hundred  thousand. 
more,  or  skeddadle  across  the  St.  Lawrence  River  to  the 
Canada  Line.  As  his  opinions  had  recently  undergone  a 
radical  change,  he  chose  the  latter  course,  and  was  soon  Afloat, 
afloat,  on  the  swift-rolling  tide.  "  Row,  brothers,  row,"  he 
cried,  "  the  stream  runs  fast,  the  Sergeant  is  near,  and  the 
'Zamination's  past,  and  I'm  a  able-bodied  man." 


A  ROMANCE— THE  CONSCRIPT.  167 

Landing  he  at  once  imprinted  a  conservative  kiss  on  the 
Canada  Line,  and  feelingly  asked  himself,  "Who  will  care  for 
Mother  now  ?  But  I  propose  to  stick  it  out  on  this  Line  if  it 
takes  all  Summer." 


CHAPTER    IV. THE   MEETING. 

It  was  evening,  it  was.  The  Star  of  the  Evening,  Beautiful 
Star,  shone  brilliantly,  adorning  the  sky  with  those  Neutral 
tints  which  have  characterized  all  British  skies  ever  since  this 
War  broke  out. 

Philander  sat  on  the  Canada  Line,  playing  with  his  Yard- 
stick, and  perhaps  about  to  take  the  measure  of  an  unmade 
piece  of  calico ;  when  Mabel,  with  a  wild  cry  of  joy,  sprang 
from  a  small-boat  to  his  side.  The  meeting  was  too  much. 
They  divided  a  good  square  faint  between  them  this  time.  At 
last  Philander  found  his  utterance,  and  said,  "  Do"  they  think 
of  me  at  Home,  do  they  ever  think  of  me  ?  " 

"  No,"  she  replied,  "  but  they  do  at  the  recruiting  office." 

"Ha!  'tis  well." 

"  Nay,  dearest,"  Mabel  pleaded,  "  come  home  and  go  to  the 
war  like  a  man !  I  will  take  your  place  in  the  Dry  Goods 
store.  True,  a  musket  is  a  little  heavier  than  a  yardstick,  but 
isn't  it  a  rather  more  manly  weapon  ?  " 

"  I  don't  see  it,"  was  Philander's  reply ;  "  besides,  this  war 
isn't  conducted  accordin'  to  the  Constitution  and  Union. 
When  it  is  —  when  it  is,  Mabeyuel,  I  will  return  and  enlist 
as  a  Convalescent !  " 

"  Then,  sir,"  she  said,  with  much  American  disgust  in  her 
countenance,  "  then,  sir,  farewell !  " 

"  Farewell !  "  he  said,  "  and  When  this  Cruel  War  is  Over, 
pray  that  we  may  meet  again !  " 

"  Nary !  "  cried  Mabel,  her  eyes  flashing  warm  fire,  —  "  naiy ! 
None  but  the  Brave  deserve  the  Sanitary  Fair  !  A  man  who 
will  desert  his  country  in  its  hour  of  trial  would  drop  Faro 
checks  into  the  Contribution  Box  on  Sunday.  I  hain't  Got 


108  A  ROMANCE— ONLY  A  MECHANIC. 

time  to  tarry  —  I  hain't  got  time  to  stay  !  —  but  here's  a  gift 
at  parting :  a  White  Feather  :  wear  it  in  your  hat !  "  and  She 
was  Gone  from  his  gaze,  like  a  beautiful  dream. 

Stung  with  remorse  and  mosquitoes,  this  miserable  young 
man,  in  a  fit  of  frenzy,  unsheathed  his  glittering  dry-goods  scis- 
sors, cut  off  four  yards  (good  measure)  of  the  Canada  Line,  and 
hanged  himself  on  a  Willow  Tree.  Requiescat  in  Tape.  His 
stick  drifted  to  My  Country,  'tis  of  thee  !  and  may  be  seen,  in 
connection  with  many  others,  on  the  stage  of  any  New  York 
theatre  every  night. 

The  Canadians  won't  have  any  line  pretty  soon.  The  skedad- 
dlers  will  steal  it.  Then  the  Canadians  won't  know  whether 
they're  in  the  United  States  or  not,  in  which  case  they  may  be 
drafted. 

Mabel  married  a  Brigadier-General,  and  is  happy. 


A  ROMANCE.— ONLY  A  MECHANIC. 

IN  a  sumptuously  furnished  parlor  in  Fifth  Avenue,  New 
York,  sat  a  proud  and  haughty  belle.  Her  name  was  Isabel 
Sawtelle.  Her  father  was  a  millionnaire,  and  his  ships,  richly 
laden,  ploughed  many  a  sea. 

By  the  side  of  Isabel  Sawtelle  sat  a  young  man  with  a  clear, 
beautiful  eye,  and  a  massive  brow. 

"  I  must  go,"  he  said,  "  the  foreman  will  wonder  at  my 
absence." 

"  The  foreman  f  "  asked  Isabel  in  a  tone  of  surprise. 

"  Yes,  the  foreman  of  the  shop  where  I  work." 

"  Foreman  —  shop  —  work  !  What !  do  you  work." 

"  Aye,  Miss  Sawtelle !  I  am  a  cooper  ! "  and  his  eyes 
flashed  with  honest  pride. 

"  What's  that  ?  "  she  asked  ;  "  it  is  something  about  barrels, 
isn't  it !  " 


ROBERTO  THE  ROVER.  169 

ft  It  is !  "  he  said,  with  a  flashing  nostril.     "  And  hogsheads." 
'*  Then  go !  "  she  said,  in  a  tone  of  disdain  —  "  go  aicay  !  " 
<c  Ha ! "  he  cried,  "  you  spurn  me,  then,  because  I  am  a  me- 
chanic.    Well,  be   it  so!  though   the  time  will  come,  Isabel 
Sawtelle,"  he  added,  and  nothing  could  exceed  his  looks  at  this 
moment — "when  you  will  bitterly  remember  the  cooper  you 
now  so  cruelly  cast  off!     Farewell!" 


Years  rolled  on.  Isabel  Sawtelle  married  a  miserable  aristo- 
crat, who  recently  died  of  delirium  tremens.  Her  father  failed, 
and  is  now  a  raving  maniac,  and  wants  to  bite  little  children. 
All  her  brothers  (except  one)  were  sent  to  the  penitentiary  for 
burglary,  and  her  mother  peddles  clams  that  are  stolen  for  her 
by  little  George,  her  only  son  that  has  his  freedom.  Isabel's 
sister  Bianca  rides  an  immoral  spotted  horse  in  the  circus,  her 
husband  having  long  since  been  hanged  for  murdering  his  own 
uncle  on  his  mother's  side.  Thus  we  see  that  it  is  always  best 
to  marry  a  mechanic. 


ROBERTO    THE  ROVER:  — A   TALE    OF   SEA   AND 
SHORE. 


CHAPTER    I. FRANCE. 

OUR  story  opens  in  the  early  part  of  the  year  17 — .  France 
was  rocking  wildly  from  centre  to  circumference.  The  arch 
despot  and  unscrupulous  man,  Richard  the  III.,  was  trembling 
like  an  aspen  leaf  upon  his  throne.  He  had  been  successful, 
through  the  valuable  aid  of  Richelieu  and  Sir  Wm.  Bonn, 
in  destroying  the  Orleans  Dysentery,  but  still  he  trembled! 


170  ROBERTO  THE  ROVER 

O'Mulligan,  the  snake-eater  of  Ireland,  and  Schnappsgoot  of 
Holland,  a  retired  dealer  in  gin  and  sardines,  had  united  their 
forces  —  some  nineteen  men.  and  a  brace  of  bull  pups  in  all  — 
and  were  overtly  at  work,  their  object  being  to  oust  the  tyrant. 
O'Mulligan  was  a  young  man  between  fifty-three  years  of  age, 
and  was  chiefly  distinguished  for  being  the  son  of  his  aunt  on 
his  great  grandfather's  side.  Schnappsgoot  was  a  man  of  liberal 
education,  having  passed  three  weeks  at  Oberlin  College.  He 
was  a  man  of  great  hardihood,  also,  and  would  frequently  read 
an  entire  column  of  "railway  matters"  in  the  Cleveland 
Herald  without  shrieking  with  agony. 


CHAPTER    II. THE    KING. 

The  tyrant  Richard  the  III.  (late  Mr.  Gloster)  sat  upon  his 
throne  in  the  Palace  d'  St.  Cloud.  He  was  dressed  in  his  best 
clothes,  and  gorgeous  trappings  surrounded  him  everywhere. 
Courtiers,  in  glittering  and  golden  armor,  stood  ready  at  his 
beck.  He  sat  moodily  for  a  while,  when  suddenly  his  sword 
flashed  from  its  silvern  scabbard,  and  he  shouted  — 

"  Slaves,  some  wine,  ho  !  " 

The  words  had  scarcely  escaped  his  lips  ere  a  bucket  of 
champagne  and  a  hoe  were  placed  before  him. 

As  the  king  raised  the  bucket  to  his  lips,  a  deep  voice  near 
by,  proceeding  from  the  mouth  of  the  noble  Count  Staghisnibs, 
cried  —  "  Drink  hearty,  old  feller." 

"  Reports,  travelling  on  lightning-wings,  whisper  of  strange 
goings  on  and  cuttings  up  throughout  this  kingdom.  Knowest 
thou  aught  of  these  things,  most  noble  Hellitysplit  ?  "  and  the 
king  drew  from  the  upper  pocket  of  his  gold-faced  vest  a  paper 
of  John  Anderson's  solace  and  proceeded  to  take  a  chaw. 

" Treason  stalks  monster-like  throughout  unhappy  Fiance, 
my  liege!  "  said  the  noble  Hellitysplit.  "The  ranks  of  the  i*. 
Q.  R.'s  are  daily  swelling,  and  the  G.  R.  J.  A.'s  are  constantly 
on  the  increase.  Already  the  peasantry  scout  at  cat-fish,  and 


ROBERTO  THE  ROVER.  171 

demand  pickled  salmon  for  their  noonday  repasts.  But,  my 
liege,"  and  the  brave  Hellitysplit's  eyes  flashed  fire,  (t  myself 
and  sword  are  at  thy  command  !  " 

"  Bully  for  you,  Count,"  said  the  king.  "  But  soft:  ine- 
thinks  report — perchance  unjustly  —  hast  spoken  suspiciously 
of  thee,  most  Royal  d' Sardine  ?  How  is  this  ?  Is  it  a  news- 
paper yarn  ?  WHAT'S  UP  ?  " 

D'Sardine  meekly  approached  the  throne,  knelt  at  the 
king's  feet,  and  said :  "  Most  patient,  gray,  and  red-headed 
skinner ;  my  very  approved  shin-plaster  :  that  I've  been  asked 
to  drink  by  the  P.  Q.  R.'s,  it  is  most  true  ;  true,  I  have  im- 
bibed sundry  mugs  of  lager  with  them.  The  very  head  and 
front  of  my  offending  hath  this  extent,  no  more." 

"  'Tis  well !  "  said  the  King,  rising  and  looking  fiercely 
around.  %"  Hadst  thou  proved  false  I  would  with  my  own  good 
sword  have  cut  off  yer  head,  and  spilled  your  ber-lud  all  over 
the  floor !  If  I  wouldn't,  blow  me !  " 


CHAPTER    III. THE    ROVER. 

Thrilling  as  the  scenes  depicted  in  the  preceding  chapter 
indubitably  were,  those  of  this  are  decidedly  THRILLINGER. 
Again  are  we  in  the  mighty  presence  of  the  King,  and  again  is 
he  surrounded  by  splendor  and  gorgeously-mailed  courtiers.  A 
sea-faring  man  stands  before  him.  It  is  Roberto  the  Rover, 
disguised  as  a  common  sailor. 

"  So,"  said  the  King,  "  thou  wouldst  have  audience  with 
me!" 

"Aye,  aye,  yer  'onor,"  said  the  sailor,  "just  tip  us  yer 
grapplin  irons  and  pipe  all  hands  on  deck.  Reef  home  yer  jib- 
poop  and  splice  yer  main  topsuls.  Man  the  jibboom  and  let  fly 
yer  top-gallunts.  I've  seen  some  salt  water  in  my  days,  yer  land- 
lubber, but  shiver  my  timbers  if  I  hadn't  rather  coast  among 
seagulls  than  landsharks.  My  name  is  Sweet  William. 
You're  old  Dick  the  Three!  Ahoy!  Awast!  Dam  my 
eyes !  "  and  Sweet  William  pawed  the  marble  floor  and  swung 


172  ROBERTO  THE  ROVER. 

his  tarpaulin  after  the  manner  of  sailors  on  the  stage,  and  con- 
sequently not  a  bit  like  those  on  shipboard. 

' "  Mariner,"  said  the  King,  gravely,  "  thy  language  is  exceed- 
ing lucid,  and  leads  me  to  infer  that  things  is  workin'  bad." 

"  Aye,  aye,  my  hearty !  "  yelled  Sweet  William,  in  dulcet 
strains,  reminding  the  King  of  the  "voluptuous  smell  of 
physic,"  spoken  of  by  the  late  Mr.  Byron. 

"  What  wouldst  thou,  seafaring  man  ?  "  asked  the  King. 

"  This !  "  cried  the  Rover,  suddenly  taking  off  his  maritime 
clothing  and  putting  on  an  expensive  suit  of  silk,  bespangled 
with  diamonds.  "  This  !  I  am  Roberto  the  Rover  !  " 

The  King  was  thunder-struck.  Cowering  back  in  his  chair 
of  state,  he  said  in  a  tone  of  mingled  fear  and  amazement, 
«  Well,  may  I  be  gaul-darned  !  " 

"  Ber-lud  !  ber-lud  !  ber-lud  !  "  shrieked  the  Rover,  as  he 
drew  a  horse-pistol  and  fired  it  at  the  King,  who  fell  fatally 
killed,  his  last  words  being,  "  WE  ARE  GOVERNED  TOO  MUCH 
—  THIS  is  THE  LAST  OF  EARTH!  !  !"  At  this  exciting  junc- 
ture Messrs.  O'Mulligan  and  Schnappsgoot  (who  had  previ- 
ously entered  into  a  copartnership  with  the  Rover  for  the 
purpose  of  doing  a  general  killing  business)  burst  into  the 
room  and  cut  off  the  heads  and  let  out  the  inwards  of  all  the 
noblemen  they  encountered.  They  then  killed  themselves  and 
died  like  heroes,  wrapped  up  in  the  Star  Spangled  Banner,  to 
slow  music.  

FINALE. 

The  Rover  fled.  He  was  captured  near  Marseilles  and 
thrust  into  prison,  where  he  lay  for  sixteen  weary  years,  all 
attempts  to  escape  being  futile.  One  night  a  lucky  thought 
struck  him.  He  raised  the  window  and  got  out.  But  he  was 
unhappy.  Remorse  and  dyspepsia  preyed  upon  his  vitals. 
He  tried  Boerhave's  Holland  Bitters  and  the  Retired  Physi- 
cian's Sands  of  Life,  and  got  well.  He  then  married  the 
lovely  Countess  D'Smith,  and  lived  to  a  green  old  age,  being 
the  triumph  of  virtue  and  downfall  of  vice. 


RED  HAND:  A  TALE  OF  REVENGE.  173 


RED   HAND:   A  TALE   OF   REVENGE. 


CHAPTER    I. 

"  Life's  but  a  walking  shadow  —  a  poor  player."  —  Shakespeare. 
"  Let  me  die  to  sweet  music." —J.  W.  Shuckers. 

"  Go  forth,  Clarence  Stanley  !  Hence  to  the  bleak  world, 
dog!  You  have  repaid  my  generosity  with  the  blackest  in- 
gratitude. You  have  forged  my  name  on  a  five  thousand 
dollar  check  —  have  repeatedly  robbed  my  money  drawer  — 
have  perpetrated  a  long  series  of  high-handed  villanies,  and 
now  to-night,  because,  forsooth,  I'll  not  give  you  more  money 
to  spend  on  your  dissolute  companions,  you  break  a  chair  over 
my  aged  head.  Away  !  You  are  a  young  man  of  small  moral 
principle.  Don't  ever  speak  to  me  again !  " 

These  harsh  words  fell  from  the  lips  of  Horace  Blinker,  one 
of  the  merchant  princes  of  New  York  City.  He  spoke  to 
Clarence  Stanley,  his  adopted  son  and  a  beautiful  youth  of 
nineteen  summers.  In  vain  did  Clarence  plead  his  poverty, 
his  tender  age,  and  inexperience ;  in  vain  did  he  fasten  those 
lustrous  blue  eyes  of  his  appealingly  and  tearfully  upon  Mr. 
Blinker,  and  tell  him  he  would  make  the  pecuniary  matter  all 
right  in  the  fall,  and  that  he  merely  shattered  a  chair  over  his 
head  by  way  of  a  joke.  The  stony-hearted  man  was  remorse- 
less, and  that  night  Clarence  Stanley  became  a  wanderer  in  the 
wide,  wide  world  !  As  he  went  forth  he  uttered  these  words : 
"H.  Blinker,  beware!  A  RED  HAND  is  around,  my  fine 
feller ! " 


174:  RED  HAND:  A   TALE  OF  REVENGE. 


CHAPTER     II. 

" a  man  of  strange,  wild  mien  —  one  who  has  seen  trouble. "  —  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

"You  ask  me,  don't  I  wish  to  see  the  Constitution  dissolved  and  broken  up.  I  answer, 
never,  never,  KEVEB  1 "  — H.  W.  Faxon. 

"  They  will  join  our  expedition/'  —  Anon. 

"Go  in  on  your  muscle." — President  Buchanaris  instructions  to  the  Collector  of 
Toledo. 

"Westward  the  hoe  of  Empire  Stars  its  way."  —  George  N.  True. 

"Where  liberty  dwells  there  is  my  kedentry."  —  C.  It.  Dennett. 

Seventeen  years  have  become  ingulfed  in  the  vast  and 
moist  ocean  of  eternity  since  the  scene  depicted  in  the  last 
chapter  occurred.  We  are  in  Mexico.  Come  with  me  to  the 
Scarlet  Banditti's  cave.  It  is  night.  A  tempest  is  raging 
tempestuously  without,  but  within  we  find  a  scene  of  dazzling 
magnificence.  The  cave  is  spacious.  Chandeliers  of  solid  gold 
hang  up  suspended  round  the  gorgeously  furnished  room,  and 
the  marble  floor  is  star-studded  with  flasjiing  diamonds.  It 
must  have  cost  between  two  hundred  dollars  to  fit  this  cave 
up.  It  embraced  all  of  the  modern  improvements.  At  the 
head  of  the  cave  life-size  photographs  (by  Ryder)  of  the  ban- 
dits, and  framed  in  gilt,  were  hung  up  suspended.  The  bandits 
were  seated  around  a  marble  table,  which  was  sculped  regard- 
less of  expense,  and  were  drinking  gin  and  molasses  out  of 
golden  goblets.  When  they  got  out  of  gin  fresh  supplies  were 
brought  in  by  slaves  from  a  two-horse  wagon  outside,  which 
had  been  captured  that  day,  after  a  desperate  and  bloody  strug- 
gle, by  the  bandits,  on  the  plains  of  Buena  Vista. 

At  the  head  of  the  table  sat  the  Chief.  His  features  were 
swarthy  but  elegant.  He  was  splendidly  dressed  in  new 
clothes,  and  had  that  voluptuous,  dreamy  air  of  grandeur  about 
him  which  would  at  once  rivet  the  gaze  of  folks  genei'ally.  In 
answer  to  a  highly  enthusiastic  call  he  arose  and  delivered  an 
able  and  eloquent  speech.  We  regret  that  our  space  does  not 
permit  us  to  give  this  truly  great  speech  in  full  —  we  can 
merely  give  a  synopsis  of  the  distinguished  speaker's  remarks : 
"  Comrades !  listen  to  your  chief.  You  all  know  my  position 


RED  HAND:  A   TALE  OF  REVENGE.  175 

on  Lecompton.  Where  I  stand  in  regard  to  low  tolls  on  the 
Ohio  Canal  is  equally  clear  to  you,  and  so  with  the  Central 
American  question.  I  believe  I  understand  my  little  Biz.  I 
decline  denning  my  position  on  the  Horse  Railroad  until  after 
the  Spring  Election.  Whichever  way  I  says  I  don't  say  so 
myself  unless  I  says  so  also.  Comrades !  be  virtuous  and 
you'll  be  happy."  The  Chief  sat  down  amidst  great  applause, 
and  was  immediately  presented  with  an  elegant  gold-headed 
cane  by  his  comrades,  as  a  slight  testimonial  of  their  respect. 


CHAPTER    III. 

"  This  is  the  last  of  Earth.."  —  Page. 

"  The  hope  of  America  lies  in  its  well-conducted  school-houses."  —Bone. 

"  I  wish  it  to  be  distinctly  understood  that  I  want  the  Union  to  be  Reserved"."  — N.  T. 
Nash. 

*'  Sjne  qua  non  Ips  Dixit  Quid  pro  quo  cui  bono  Ad  infinitim  E  Unibus  plurum."  — 
Brown. 

Two  hours  later.  Return  we  again  to  the  Banditti's  Cave. 
Revelry  still  holds  high  carnival  among  the  able  and  efficient 
bandits.  A  knock  is  heard  at  the  door.  From  his  throne  at 
the  head  of  the  table  the  Chief  cries,  l<  Come  in !  "  and  an  old 
man,  haggard,  white-haired,  and  sadly  bent,  enters  the  cave. 

" Messieurs,"  he  tremblingly  ejaculates,  "for  seventeen 
years  I  have  not  tasted  of  food  !  " 

"  Well,"  says  a  kind-hearted  bandit,  "  if  that's  so  I  expect 
you  must  be  rather  faint.  We'll  get  you  up  a  warm  meal  im- 
mediately, stranger." 

"  Hold !  "  whispered  the  Chief  in  tones  of  thunder,  and 
rushing  slowly  to  the  spot ;  "  this  is  about  played  out.  Behold 
in  me  RED  HAND,  the  Bandit  Chief,  once  Clarence  Stanley, 
whom  you  cruelly  turned  into  a  cold  world  seventeen  years 
ago  this  very  night !  Old  man,  prepare  to  go  up  !  "  Saying 
which  the  Chief  drew  a  sharp  carving  knife  and  cut  off  Mr. 
Blinker's  ears.  He  then  scalped  Mr.  B.,  and  cut  all  of  his 


176  RED  HAND:  A   TALE  OF  REVENGE. 

toes  off.  The  old  man  struggled  to  extricate  himself  from  his 
unpleasant  situation,  but  was  unsuccessful. 

"  My  goodness,"  he  piteously  exclaimed,  t(  I  must  say  you 
are  pretty  rough.  It  seems  to  me  — ." 

This  is  all  of  this  intensely  interesting  tale  that  will  be  pub- 
lished in  the  PLAIN  DEALER.  The  remainder  of  it  may  be 
found  in  the  great  moral  family  paper,  et  The  Windy  Flash," 
published  in  New  York,  by  Stimpkins.  The  Windy  Flash  cir- 
culates 4,000,000  copies  weekly. 

IT  IS  THE  ALL-FIREDEST  PAPER  EVER  PRINTED. 
IT  IS  THE  ALL-FIREDEST  PAPER  EVER  PRINTED. 
IT  IS  THE  ALL-FIREDEST  PAPER  EVER  PRINTED. 
IT  IS  THE  ALL-FIREDEST  PAPER  EVER  PRINTED. 

IT'S  THE  CUSSEDEST  BEST  PAPER  IN  THE  WORLD. 
IT'S  THE  CUSSEDEST  BEST  PAPER  IN  THE  WORLD. 
IT'S  THE  CUSSEDEST  BEST  PAPER  IN  THE  WORLD. 
IT'S  THE  CUSSEDEST  BEST  PAPER  IN  THE  WORLD. 


IT'S   A   MORAL   PAPER. 

SOLD  AT  ALL  THE  CORNER  GROCERIES. 
SOLD  AT  ALL  THE  CORNER  GROCERIES. 
SOLD  AT  ALL  THE  CORNER  GROCERIES. 
SOLD  AT  ALL  THE  CORNER  GROCERIES. 


PYROTECHNY.  177 


PYROTECHNY. 


I. THE    PEACEFUL    HAMLET. 

NESTLING  among  the  grand  hills  of  New  Hampshire,  in  the 
United  States  of  America,  is  a  village  called  Waterbury. 

Perhaps  you  were  never  there. 

I  do  not  censure  you  if  you  never  were. 

One  can  get  on  very  well  without  going  to  Waterbury. 

Indeed,  there  are  millions  of  meritorious  persons  who  were 
never  there,  and  yet  they  are  happy. 

In  this  peaceful  hamlet  lived  a  young  man  named  Pettingill. 

Reuben  Pettingill. 

He  was  an  agriculturist. 

A  broad-shouldered,  deep-chested  agriculturist. 

He  was  contented  to  live  in  this  peaceful  hamlet. 

He  said  it  was  better  than  a  noisy  Othello. 

Thus  do  these  simple  children  of  nature  joke  in  a  first  class 
manner. 


II. MYSELF. 

I  write  this  romance  in  the  French  style. 

Yes:  something  that  way. 

The  French  style  consists  of  making  just  as  many  paragraphs 
as  possible. 

Thus  one  may  fill  up  a  column  in  a  very  short  time. 

I  am  paid  by  the  column,  and  the  quicker  I  can  fill  up  a 
column  —  but  this  is  a  matter  to  which  we  will  not  refer. 

We  will  let  this  matter  pass. 
8* 


178  PYROTECHNT. 


III. PETTINGILL. 

Reuben  Pettingill  was  extremely  industrious. 

He  worked  hard  all  the  year  round  on  his  father's  little 
farm. 

Right  he  was !     Industry  is  a  very  fine  thing. 

It  is  one  of  the  finest  things  of  which  we  have  any  knowledge. 

Yet  do  not  frown,  "  do  not  weep  for  me,"  when  I  state  that 
I  don't  like  it. 

It  doesn't  agree  with  me. 

I  prefer  indolence. 

I  am  happiest  when  I  am  idle. 

I  could  live  for  months  without  performing  any  kind  of  la- 
bor, and  at  the  expiration  of  that  time  I  should  feel  fresh  and 
vigorous  enough  to  go  right  on  in  the  same  way  for  numerous 
more  months. 

This  should  not  surprise  you. 

Nothing  that  a  modern  novellist  does  should  excite  astonish- 
ment in  any  well-regulated  mind. 


IV. INDEPENDENCE    DAY. 

The  4th  of  July  is  always  celebrated  in  America  with  guns, 
and  processions,  and  banners,  and  all  those  things. 

You  know  why  we  celebrate  this  day. 

The  American  Revolution,  in  1775,  was  perhaps  one  of  the 
finest  revolutions  that  was  ever  seen.  But  I  have  not  time  to 
give  you  a  full  history  of  the  American  Revolution.  It  would 
consume  years  to  do  it,  and  I  might  weary  you. 

One  4th  of  July  Reuben  Pettingill  went  to  Boston. 

He  saw  great  sights. 

He  saw  the  dense  throng  of  people,  the  gay  volunteers,  the 
banners,  and,  above  all,  he  saw  the  fireworks. 

I  despise  myself  for  using  so  low  a  word,  but  the  fireworks 
Clicked  "him. 


PTROTECHNT.  179 

A  new  world  was  opened  to  this  young  man. 

He  returned  to  his  parents  and  the  little  farm  among  the 
hills,  with  his  heart  full  of  fireworks. 

He  said,  "  I  will  make  some  myself." 
\     He  said  this  while  eating  a  lobster  on  top  of  the  coach. 

He  was  an  extraordinary  skilful  young  man  in  the  use  of  a 
common  clasp-knife. 

"With  that  simple  weapon  he  could  make,  from  soft  wood, 
horses,  dogs,  cats,  &c.  He  carved  excellent  soldiers  also. 

I  remember  his  masterpiece. 

It  was  "  Napoleon  crossing  the  Alps." 

Looking  at  it  critically,  I  should  say  it  was  rather  short  of 
Alps. 

An  Alp  or  two  more  would  have  improved  it:  but,  as  a 
whole,  it  was  a  wonderful  piece  of  work ;  and  what  a  wonderful 
piece  of  work  is  a  wooden  man,  when  his  legs  and  arms  are  all 
right. 


V.  —  WHAT   THIS   YOUNG   MAN   SAID. 

He  said,  "  I  can  make  just  as  good  fireworks  as  them  in 
Boston." 

"  Them  "  was  not  grammatical,  but  why  care  for  grammar  as 
long  as  we  are  good  ? 


Pettingill  neglected  the  farm. 

He  said  that  it  might  till  itself' — he  should  manufacture 
some  gorgeous  fireworks,  and  exhibit  them  on  the  village  green 
on  the  next  4th  of  July. 

He  said  the  Eagle  of  Fame  would  flap  his  wings  over  their 
humble  roof  ere  many  months  should  pass  away. 

"  If  he  does,"  said  old  Mr.  Pettingill,  "  we  must  shoot  him, 
and  bile  him,  and  eat  him,  because  we  shall  be  rather  short  of 
meat,  my  son,  if  you  go  on  in  this  lazy  way." 


180  PTROTECHNT. 

And  the  old  man  wept. 
He  shed  over  120  gallons  of  tears. 

That  is  to  say,  a  puncheon.     But  by  all  means  let  us  avoid 
turning  this  romance  into  a  farce. 


VII. PYROTECHNY. 

But  the  headstrong  young  man  went  to  work,  making  fire- 
works. 

He  bought  and  carefully  studied  a  work  on  pyrotechny. 

The  villagers  knew  that  he  was  a  remarkably  skilful  young 
man,  and  they  all  said,  '  '  We  shall  have  a  great  treat  next  4th 
of  July." 

Meanwhile  Pettingill  worked  away. 


VIII. THE   DAY. 


THE  great  day  came  at  last. 

Thousands  poured  into  the  little  village  from  far  and  near. 

There  was  an  oration,  of  course. 


IX. ORATORY   IN   AMERICA. 

Yes;  there  was  an  oration. 

We  have  a  passion  for  oratory  in  America  —  political  01 
tory  chiefly. 

Our  political  orators  never  lose  a  chance  to  f £  express  the 
views." 

They  will  do  it.     You  cannot  stop  them. 

There  was  an  execution  in  Ohio  one  day,  and  the  Sheriff, 
before  placing  the  rope  round  the  murderer's  neck,  asked  him 
if  he  had  any  remarks  to  make  ? 

"  If  he  hasn't,"  said  a  well-known  local  orator,  pushing  his 


PTEOTECKNT.  181 

way  rapidly  through  the  dense  crowd  to  the  gallows  —  "  if  our, 
ill-starred  feller-citizen  don't  feel  inclined  to  make  a  speech 
and  is  in  no  hurry,  I  should  like  to  avail  myself  of  the  present 
occasion  to  make  some  remarks  on  the  necessity  of  a  new  pro- 
tective tariff!  " 


As  I  said  in  Chapter  VIII.,  there  was  an  oration.  There 
were  also  processions,  and  guns,  and  banners. 

"  This  evening,"  said  the  chairman  of  the  committee  of  ar- 
rangements, "  this  evening,  fellow-citizens,  there  will  be  a  grand 
display  of  fireworks  on  the  village  green,  superintended  by  the 
inventor  and  manufacturer,  our  public-spirited  townsman,  Mr. 
Reuben  Pettingill." 

Night  closed  in,  and  an  immense  concourse  of  people  gath- 
ered on  the  village  green. 

On  a  raised  platform,  amidst  his  fireworks,  stood  Pettingill. 

He  felt  that  the  great  hour  of  his  life  was  come,  and,  in  a 
firm,  clear  voice,  he  said : 

"  The  fust  fireworks,  feller-citizens,  will  be  a  rocket,  which 
will  go  up  in  the  air,  bust,  and  assume  the  shape  of  a  serpint." 

He  applied  a  match  to  the  rocket,  but  instead  of  going  up  in 
the  air,  it  flew  wildly  down  into  the  grass,  running  some  dis- 
tance with  a  hissing  kind  of  sound,  and  causing  the  masses  to 
jump  round  in  a  very  insane  manner. 

Pettingill  was  disappointed,  but  not  disheartened.  He  tried 
again. 

"  The  next  fireworks,"  he  said,  "  will  go  up  in  the  air,  bust, 
and  become  a  beautiful  revolvin'  wheel." 

But,  alas !  it  didn't.  It  only  ploughed  a  little  furrow  in  the 
green  grass,  like  its  unhappy  predecessor. 

The  masses  laughed  at  this,  and  one  man  —  a  white-haired 
old  villager  —  said,  kindly  but  firmly,  "  Reuben,  I'm  'fraid  you 
don't  understand  pyrotechny." 


182  PYROTECHNY. 

Reuben  was  amazed.  Why  did  his  rockets  go  down  instead 
of  up  ?  But,  perhaps,  the  others  would  be  more  successful  j 
and,  with  a  flushed  face,  and  in  a  voice  scarcely  as  firm  as  be- 
fore, he  said : 

11  The  next  specimen  of  pyrotechny  will  go  up  in  the  air, 
bust,  and  become  a  eagle.  Said  eagle  will  soar  away  into  the 
western  skies,  leavin'  a  red  trail  behind  him  as  he  so  soars." 

But,  alas !  again.  No  eagle  soared,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
that  ordinarily  proud  bird  buried  its  head  in  the  grass. 

The  people  were  dissatisfied.  They  made  sarcastic  remarks. 
Some  of  them  howled  angrily.  The  aged  man  who  had  before 
spoken  said,  il  No,  Reuben,  you  evidently  don't  understand 
pyrotechny." 

Pettingill  boiled  with  rage  and  disappointment. 

(t  You  don't  understand  pyrotechny !  "  the  masses  shouted. 

Then  they  laughed  in  a  disagreeable  manner,  and  some  un- 
feeling lads  threw  dirt  at  our  hero. 

"  You  don't  understand  pyrotechny !  "  the  masses  yelled 
again. 

"  Don't  I  ?  "  screamed  Pettingill,  wild  with  rage ;  "  don't 
you  think  I  do  ?  " 

Then  seizing  several  gigantic  rockets  he  placed  them  over  a 
box  of  powder,  and  touched  the  whole  off. 

This  rocket  went  up.     It  did,  indeed. 

There  was  a  terrific  explosion. 

No  one  was  killed,  fortunately  ;  though  many  were  injured. 

The  platform  was  almost  torn  to  pieces. 

But  proudly  erect  among  the  falling  timbers  stood  Pettingill, 
his  face  flashing  with  wild  triumph  ;  and  he  shouted  :  "  If  I'm 
any  judge  of  pyrotechny,  that  rocket  has  went  off." 

Then  seeing  that  all  the  fingers  on  his  right  hand  had  been 
taken  close  off  in  the  explosion,  he  added :  "  And  I  ain't  so 
dreadful  certain  but  four  of  my  fingers  has  went  off  with  it, 
because  I  don't  see  'em  here  now !  " 


A  MORMON  ROMANCE  183 


A  MORMON  ROMANCE  — REGINALD  GLOVERSON. 


CHAPTER   I.- 

THE  morning  on  which  Reginald  Gloverson  was  to  leave 
Great  Salt  Lake  City  with  a  mule-train,  dawned  beautifully. 

Reginald  Gloverson  was  a  young  and  thrifty  Mormon,  with 
an  interesting  family  of  twenty  young  and  handsome  wives. 
His  unions  had  never  been  blessed  with  children.  As  often  as 
once  a  year  he  used  to  go  to  Omaha,  in  Nebraska,  with  a  mule- 
train  for  goods ;  but  although  he  had  performed  the  rather 
perilous  journey  many  times  with  entire  safety,  his  heart  was 
strangely  sad  on  this  particular  morning,  and  filled  with  gloomy 
forebodings. 

The  time  for  his  departure  had  arrived.  The  high-spirited 
mules  were  at  the  door,  impatiently  champing  their  bits.  The 
Mormon  stood  sadly  among  his  weeping  wives. 

"  Dearest  ones,"  he  said,  "  I  am  singularly  sad  at  heart, 
this  morning ;  but  do  not  let  this  depress  you.  The  journey 
is  a  perilous  one,  but  • —  pshaw  !  I  have  always  come  back 
safely  heretofore,  and  why  should  I  fear  ?  Besides,  I  know 
that  every  night,  as  I  lay  down  on  the  broad  starlit  prairie, 
your  bright  faces  will  come  to  me  in  my  dreams,  and  make  my 
slumbers  sweet  and  gentle.  You,  Emily,  with  your  mild  blue 
eyes  ;  and  you,  Henrietta,  with  your  splendid  black  hair  ;  and 
you,  Nelly,  with  your  hair  so  brightly,  beautifully  golden ;  and 
you,  Mollie,  with  your  cheeks  so  downy ;  and  you,  Betsy,  with 
your  wine-red  lips  —  far  more  delicious,  though,  than  any 
wdne  I  ever  tasted  —  and  you,  Maria,  with  your  winsome 
voice ;  and  you,  Susan,  with  your  —  with  your  —  that  is  to 
say,  Susan,  with  your and  the  other  thirteen  of  you,  each 


184  A  MORMON  ROMANCE. 

so  good  and  beautiful,  will  come  to  me  in  sweet  dreams,  will 
you  not,  Dearestists  ?  " 

"  Our  own,"  they  lovingly  chimed,  "  we  will !  " 
"  And  so  farewell !  "  cried  Reginald.     "  Come  to  my  arms, 
my  own !  "  he  said,  "  that  is,  as  many  of  you  as  can  do  it  con- 
veniently at  once,  for  I  must  away." 

He  folded  several  of  them  to  his    throbbing   breast,  and 
drove  sadly  away. 


But  he  had  not  gone  far  when  the  trace  of  the  off-hind  mule 
became  unhitched.  Dismounting,  he  essayed  to  adjust  the 
trace ;  but  ere  he  had  fairly  commenced  the  task,  the  mule,  a 
singularly  refractory  animal  —  snorted  wildly,  and  kicked  Re- 
ginald frightfully  in  the  stomach.  He  arose  with  difficulty, 
and  tottered  feebly  towards  his  mother's  house,  which  was 
near  by,  falling  dead  in  her  yard,  with  the  remark,  "  Dear 
Mother,  I've  come  home  to  die !  " 

"  So  I  see,"  she  said  ;  "  where's  the  mules  ?  " 

Alas !  Reginald  Gloverson  could  give  no  answer.  In  vain 
the  heart-stricken  mother  threw  herself  upon  his  inanimate 
form,  crying,  "  Oh,  my  son  —  my  son  !  only  tell  me  where  the 
mules  are,  and  then  you  may  die  if  you  want  to." 

In  vain  —  in  vain !     Reginald  had  passed  on. 


CHAPTER  II. FUNERAL  TRAPPINGS. 

The  mules  were  never  found. 

Reginald's  heart-broken  mother  took  the  body  home  to  her 
unfortunate  son's  widows.  But  before  her  arrival  she  indis- 
creetly sent  a  boy  to  Bust  the  news  gently  to  the  afflicted  wives, 
which  he  did  by  informing  them  in  a  hoarse  whisper  that  their 
"  old  man  had  gone  in." 

The  wives  felt  very  badly  indeed. 


A  MORMON  ROMANCE.  185 

"  He  was  devoted  to  me,"  sobbed  Emily. 

"  And  to  me,"  said  Maria. 

"  Yes,"  said  Emily,  "  he  thought  considerably  of  you,  but 
not  so  much  as  he  did  of  me." 

" I  say  he  did!" 

"  And  I  say  he  didn't !  " 

"  He  did  !  " 

"  He  didn't !  " 

"  Don't  look  at  me,  with  your  squint  eyes !  " 

"  Don't  shake  your  red  head  at  me  !  " 

"  Sisters  !  "  said  the  black-haired  Henrietta,  f£  cease  this  un- 
seemly wrangling.  I,  as  his  first  wife,  shall  strew  flowers  on 
his  grave." 

*'  No  you  won't"  said  Susan.  (t  I,  as  his  last  wife,  shall 
strew  flowers  on  his  grave.  It's  my  business  to  strew  !  " 

"  You  shan't,  so  there  !  "  said  Henrietta. 

"  You  bet  I  will !  "  said  Susan,  with  a  tear-suffused  cheek. 

"  Well,  as  for  me,"  said  the  practical  Betsy,  "  I  ain't  on 
the  Strew,  much,  but  1  shall  ride  at  the  head  of  the  funeral 
procession !  " 

(C  Not  if  I've  been  introduced  to  myself,  you  won't,"  said 
the  golden-haired  Nelly  ;  <l  that's  my  position.  You  bet  your 
bonnet-strings  it  is." 

"  Children,"  said  Reginald's  mother,  "  you  must  do  some 
crying,  you  know,  on  the  day  of  the  funeral ;  and  how  many 
pocket-handkerchers  will  it  take  to  go  round?  Betsy,  you 
and  Nelly  ought  to  make  one  do  between  you." 

"  I'll  tear  her  eyes  out  if  she  perpetrates  a  sob  on  my  hand- 
kercher !  "  said  Nelly. 

"  Dear  daughters-in-law,"  said  Reginald's  mother,  "  how  un- 
seemly is  this  aager !  Mules  is  five  hundred  dollars  a  span, 
and  every  identical  mule  my  poor  boy  had  has  been  gobbled 
up  by  the  red  man.  I  knew  when  my  Reginald  staggered  into 
the  door-yard  that  he  was  on  the  Die,  but  if  I'd  only  thunk  to 
ask  him  about  them  mules  ere  his  gentle  spirit  took  flight,  it 
would  have  been  four  thousand  dollars  in  our  pockets,  and  no 


186  A  MORMON  ROMANCE. 

mistake !     Excuse  those  real    tears,   but  you've  never   felt  a 
parent's  feelin's." 

"  It's  an  oversight,"  sobbed  Maria.     "  Don't  blame  us  !  " 


CHAPTER   III.  DUST    TO    DUST. 

The  funeral  passed  off  in  a  very  pleasant  manner,  nothing 
occurring  to  mar  the  harmony  of  the  occasion.  By  a  happy 
thought  of  Reginald's  mother,  the  wives  walked  to  the  grave 
twenty  abreast,  which  rendered  that  part  of  the  ceremony 
thoroughly  impartial. 

*  *  ***** 

That  night  the  twenty  wives,  with  heavy  hearts,  sought 
their  twenty  respective  couches.  But  no  Reginald  occupied 
those  twenty  respective  couches  —  Reginald  would  nevermore 
linger  all  night  in  blissful  repose  in  those  twenty  respective 
couches  —  Reginald's  head  would  nevermore  press  the  twenty 
respective  pillows  of  those  twenty  respective  couches— never, 
nevermore ! 

******* 

In  another  house,  not  many  leagues  from  the  House  of 
Mourning,  a  gray-haired  woman  was  weeping  passionately. 
"He  died,"  she  cried,  "he  died  without  sigerfyin',  in  any 
espect,  where  them  mules  went  to  !  " 


CHAPTER     IV. MARRIED   AGAIN. 

Two  years  are  supposed  to  elapse  between  the  third  and 
fourth  chapters  of  this  original  American  romance. 

A  manly  Mormon,  one  evening,  as  the  sun  was  preparing  to 
set  among  a  select  apartment  of  gold  and  crimson  clouds  in 
the  western  horizon  —  although  for  that  matter  the  sun  has  a 
right  to  "  set "  where  it  wants  to,  and  so,  I  may  add,  has  a  hen 


A  MORMON  ROMANCE.  187 

—  a  manly  Mormon,  I  say,  tapped  gently  at  the  door  of  the 
mansion  of  the  late  Reginald  Gloverson. 

The  door  was  opened  by  Mrs.  Susan  Gloverson. 

"  Is   this  the  house  of  the  widow  Gloverson  ? "  the    Mor- 


mon 

«  It  is,"  said  Susan. 

"  And  how  many  is  there  of  she  ?  "  inquired  the  Mormon. 

"  There  is  about  twenty  of  her,  including  me,"  courteously 
returned  the  fair  Susan. 

"Can  I  see  her?" 

"  You  can." 

"  Madam,"  he  softly  said,  addressing  the  twenty  disconsolate 
widows.  "  I  have  seen  part  of  you  before  !  And  although  I 
have  already  twenty-five  wives,  whom  I  respect  and  tenderly 
care  for,  I  can  truly  say  that  I  never  felt  love's  holy  thrill 
till  I  saw  thee !  Be  mine  —  be  mine  ! "  he  enthusiastically 
cried,  "  and  we  will  show  the  world  a  striking  illustration  of 
the  beauty  and  truth  of  the  noble  lines,  only  a  good  deal  more 
so  — 

"  Twenty-one  souls  with  a  single  thought, 
Twenty-one  hearts  that  beat  as  one  !  " 

They  were  united,  they  were  ! 

Gentle  reader,  does  not  the  moral  of  this  romance  show 
that  —  does  it  not,  in  fact,  show  that  however  many  there  may 
be  of  a  young  widow  woman,  or  rather  does  it  not  show  that 
whatever  number  of  persons  one  woman  may  consist  of  — 
well,  never  mind  what  it  slwws.  Only  this  writing  Mormon 
romances  is  confusing  to  the  intellect.  You  try  it  and  see. 


TO  CALIFORNIA  AND  RETURN. 


ON   THE    STEAMER. 

NEW  YORK,  Oct.  13, 1863. 

THE  steamer  Ariel  starts  for  California  at  noon. 

Her  decks  are  crowded  with  excited  passengers,  who  insanely 
undertake  to  "  look  after  "  their  trunks  and  things ;  and  what 
with  our  smashing  against  each  other,  and  the  yells  of  the  por- 
ters, and  the  wails  over  lost  baggage,  and  the  crash  of  boxes, 
and  the  roar  of  the  boilers,  we  are  for  the  time  being  about  as 
unhappy  a  lot  of  maniacs  as  were  ever  thrown  together. 

I  am  one  of  them.  I  am  rushing  round  with  a  glaring  eye 
in  search  of  a  box. 

Great  jam,  in  which  I  find  a  sweet  young  lady,  with  golden 
hair,  clinging  to  me  fondly,  and  saying,  "  Dear  George,  farewell ! " 
—  Discovers  her  mistake,  and  disappears. 

I  should  like  to  be  George  some  more. 

Confusion  so  great  that  I  seek  refuge  in  a  stateroom  which 
contains  a  single  lady  of  forty-five  summers,  who  says,  "  Base 
man !  leave  me  !  "  I  leave  her. 

By  and  by  we  cool  down,  and  become  somewhat  regulated. 


190  THE  ISTHMUS. 

The  next  day  and  the  next  pass  by  in  a  serene  manner.  The 
waves  are  smooth  now,  and  we  can  all  eat  and  sleep.  We  might 
have  enjoyed  ourselves  very  well,  I  fancy,  if  the  Ariel,  whose 
capacity  was  about  three  hundred  and  fifty  passengers,  had  not 
on  this  occasion  carried  nearly  nine  hundred,  a  hundred  at  least 
of  whom  were  children  of  an  unpleasant  age.  Captain  Semmes 
captured  the  Ariel  once,  and  it  is  to  be  deeply  regretted  that  that 
thrifty  buccaneer  hadn't  made  mince-meat  of  her,  because  she  is 
a  miserable  tub  at  best,  and  hasn't  much  more  right  to  be  afloat 
than  a  second-hand  coffin  has.  I  do  not  know  her  proprietor, 
Mr.  C.  Yanderbilt.  But  I  know  of  several  excellent  mill  privi- 
leges in  the  State  of  Maine,  and  not  one  of  them  is  so  thorough- 
ly Darned  as  he  was  all  the  way  from  New  York  to  Aspinwall. 


I  have  spoken  my  Piece  about  the  Ariel,  and  I  hope  Mr. 
Vanderbilt  will  reform  ere  it  is  too  late.  Dr.  Watts  says  the 
vilest  sinner  may  return  as  long  as  the  gas-meters  work  well, 
or  words  to  that  effect. 

I 

We  were  so  densely  crowded  on  board  the  Ariel  that  I  cannot 
conscientiously  say  we  were  altogether  happy.  And  sea- voyages 
at  best  are  a  little  stupid.  On  the  whole  I  should  prefer  a 
voyage  on  the  Erie  Canal,  where  there  isn't  any  danger,  and 
where  you  can  carry  picturesque  scenery  along  with  you  —  so  to 
speak. 


II. 


THE    ISTHMUS. 

ON  the  ninth  day  we  reach  Aspinwall  in  the  Republic  of 
Grenada.  The  President  of  New  Granada  is  a  Central  Ameri- 
can named  Mosquero.  I  was  told  that  he  derived  quite  a  por- 


THE  ISTHMUS.  191 

tion  of  his  income  by  carrying  passengers'  valises  and  things 
from  the  steamer  to  the  hotels  in  Aspinwall.  It  was  an  infa- 
mous falsehood.  Fancy  A.  Lincoln  carrying  carpet-bags  and 
things  !  and  indeed  I  should  rather  trust  him  with  them  than 
Mosquero,  because  the  former  gentleman,  as  I  think  some  one 
has  before  observed,  is  "  honest." 

I  intrust  my  bag  to  a  speckled  native,  who  confidentially 
gives  me  to  understand  that  he  is  the  only  strictly  honest  per- 
son in  Aspinwall.  The  rest,  he  says,  are  niggers  —  which  the 
colored  people  of  the  Isthmus  regard  as  about  as  scathing  a 
thing  as  they  can  say  of  one  another. 

I  examine  the  New  Grenadian  flag,  which  waves  from  the 
chamber-window  of  a  refreshment  saloon.  It  is  of  simple  design. 
You  can  make  one. 

Take  half  of  a  cotton  shirt,  that  has  been  worn  two  months, 
and  dip  it  in  molasses  of  the  Day  &  Martin  brand.  Then  let 
the  flies  gambol  over  it  for  a  few  days,  and  you  have  it.  It  is 
an  emblem  of  Sweet  Liberty. 

At  the  Howard  House  the  man  of  sin  rubbeth  the  hair  of 
the  horse  to  the  bowels  of  the  cat,  and  our  girls  are  waving 
their  lily-white  Jioofs  in  the  dazzling  waltz. 

We  have  a  quadrille,  in  which  an  English  person  slips  up  and 
jams  his  massive  brow  against  my  stomach.  He  apologizes,  and 
I  say,  "all  right,  my  lord."  I  subsequently  ascertained  that 
he  superintended  the  shipping  of  coals  for  the  British  steamers, 
and  owned  fighting  cocks. 


The  natives  amass  wealth  by  carrying  valises,  <fec.,  then  squan- 
der it  for  liquor.  My  native  comes  to  me  as  I  sit  on  the  ve- 
randa of  the  Howard  House  smoking  a  cigar,  and  solicits  the 
job  of  taking  my  things  to  the  cars  next  morning.  He  is  intoxi- 
cated, and  has  been  fighting,  to  the  palpable  detriment  of  his 
wearing  apparel ;  for  he  has  only  a  pair  of  tattered  pantaloons 
and  a  very  small  quantity  of  shirt  left. 


192  THE  ISTHMUS. 

We  go  to  bed.     Eight  of  us  are  assigned  to  a  small  den  up- 
stairs, with  only  two  lame  apologies  for  beds. 

Mosquitoes  and  even  rats  annoy  us  fearfully.  One  bold  rat 
gnaws  at  the  feet  of  a  young  Englishman  in  the  party.  This 
was  more  than  the  young  Englishman  could  stand,  and  risin<* 
from  his  bed  he  asked  us  if  New  Grenada  wasn't  a  Republic  ? 
We  said  it  was.  "  I  thought  so,"  he  said.  C(  Of  course  I  mean 
no  disrespect  to  the  United  States  of  America  in  the  remark, 
but  I  think  I  prefer  a  bloated  monarchy  !  "  He  smiled  sadly  — 
then  handing  his  purse  and  his  mother's  photograph  to  another 
English  person,  he  whispered  softly,  "  If  I  am  eaten  up,  give  them 
to  Me  mother  —  tell  her  I  died  like  a  true  Briton,  with  no  faith 
whatever  in  the  success  of  a  republican  form  of  government !  " 
And  then  he  crept  back  to  bed  again. 


We  start  at  seven  the  next  morning  for  Panama. 

My  native  comes  bright  and  early  to  transport  my  carpet 
sack  to  the  railway  station.  His  clothes  have  suffered  still 
more  during  the  night,  for  he  comes  to  me  now  dressed  only  in 
a  small  rag  and  one  boot. 

At  last  we  are  off.  "Adios,  Americanos  !  "  the  natives  cry ; 
to  which  I  pleasantly  reply,  "Adous  !  and  long  may  it  be  before 
you  have  a  chance  to  Do  us  again." 

The  cars  are  comfortable  on  the  Panama  railway,  and  the 
country  through  which  we  pass  is  very  beautiful.  But  it  will 
not  do  to  trust  it  much,  because  it  breeds  fevers  and  other  un- 
plesant  disorders,  at  all  seasons  of  the  year.  Like  a  girl  we 
most  all  have  known,  the  Isthmus  is  fair  but  false. 

There  are  mud  huts  all  along  the  route,  and  half-naked  savages, 
gaze  patronizingly  upon  us  from  their  doorways.  An  elderly 
lady  in  spectacles  appears  to  be  much  scandalized  by  the  scant 
dress  of  these  people,  and  wants  to  know  why  the  Select  Men 
don't  put  a  stop  to  it.  From  this,  and  a  remark  she  incidentally 
makes  about  her  son,  who  has  invented  a  washing  machine 
which  will  wash,  wring,  and  dry  a  shirt  in  ten  minutes,  I  infe 


fer 


MEXICO.  193 

that  she  is  from  tho  hills  of  Old  New  England,  like  the  Hutch  - 
inson  family. 

The  Central  American  is  lazy.  The  only  exercise  he  ever 
takes  is  t^  occasionally  produce  a  Revolution.  When  his  feet 
begin  to  swell  and  there  are  premonitory  symptoms  of  gout,  he 
"  revolushes  "  a  spell,  and  then  serenely  returns  to  his  cigarette 
and  hammock  under  the  palm-trees. 

These  Central  American  Republics  are  queer  concerns.  I  do 
not  of  course  precisely  know  what  a  last  year's  calf's  ideas  of  im- 
mortal glory  may  be,  but.  probably  they  are  about  as  lucid  as 
those  of  a  Central  American  in  regard  to  a  republican  form  of 
government. 

And  yet  I  am  told  they  are  a  kindly  people  in  the  main.  I 
never  met  but  one  of  them  —  a  Costa-Rican,  on  board  the  Ariel. 
He  lay  sick  with  fever,  and  I  went  to  him  and  took  his  hot 
hand  gently  in  mine.  I  shall  never  forget  his  look  of  gratitude. 
And  the  next  day  he  borrowed  five  dollars  of  me,  shedding  tears 
as  he  put  it  in  his  pocket. 

The  Senoritas  who  leave  us  at  Panama  are  splendid  creatures. 
They  learned  me  Spanish,  and  in  the  soft  moonlight  we  walked 
on  deck  and  talked  of  the  land  of  Pizarro.  (You  know  old  Piz. 
conquered  Peru !  and  although  he  was  not  educated  at  West 
Point,  he  had  still  some  military  talent.)  I  feel  as  though  I 
had  lost  all  my  relations,  including  mv  grandmother  and  the 
cooking  stove,  when  these  gay  young  Senoritas  go  away. 

They  do  not  go  to  Peru  on  a  Peruvian  bark,  but  on  an 
English  steamer.  Off  to  Acapulco. 


WE  make  Acapulco,  a  Mexican  coast  town  of  some  import- 
ance, in  a  few  days,  and  all  go  ashore. 

The  pretty  peasant   girls  peddle   necklaces  made  of  shells, 
9 


194:  MEXICO. 

and  oranges,  in  the  streets  of  Acapulco,  on  steamer  days.  They 
are  quite  naive  about  it.  Handing  you  a  necklace  they  will 
say,  "  Me  give  you  pres-e?2^,  Sefior,"  and  then  retire  with  a  low 
curtsey.  Returning,  however,  in  a  few  moments,  they  say  quite 
sweetly,  "  You  give  me  pres-e^^,  Sefior,  of  quarter  dollar !  " 
which  you  at  once  do  unless  you  have  a  heart  of  stone. 

Acapulco  was  shelled  by  the  French  a  year  or  so  before  our 
arrival  there,  and  they  effected  a  landing.  But  the  gay  and  gallant 
Mexicans  peppered  them  so  persistently  and  effectually  from  the 
mountains  near  by  that  they  concluded  to  sell  out  and  leave. 

Napoleon  has  no  right  in  Mexico.  Mexico  may  deserve  a 
licking.  That  is  possible  enough.  Most  people  do.  But  no- 
body has  any  right  to  lick  Mexico  except  the  United  States. 
We  have  a  right,  I  natter  myself,  to  lick  this  entire  continent, 
including  ourselves,  any  time  we  want  to. 


The  signal  gun  is  fired  at  11,  and  we  go  off  to  the  steamer 
in  small  boats. 

We  reach  Manzanillo,  another  coast  place,  twenty-four  hours 
after  leaving  Acapulco.  Manzanillo  is  a  little  Mexican  village, 
and  looked  very  wretched  indeed,  sweltering  away  there  on  the 
hot  sands.  But  it  is  a  port  of  some  importance,  nevertheless, 
because  a  great  deal  of  merchandise  finds  its  way  to  the  in- 
terior from  there.  The  white  and  green  flag  of  Mexico  floats 
from  a  red  steam-tug  (the  navy  of  Mexico,  by  the  way,  con- 
sists of  two  tugs,  a  disabled  raft,  and  a  basswood  life-pre- 
server), and  the  Captain  of  the  Port  comes  off  to  us  in  1m 
small  boat,  climbs  up  the  side  of  the  St.  Louis,  and  folds  tht 
healthy  form  of  Captain  Hudson  to  his  breast.  There  is  IK 
wharf  here,  and  we  have  to  anchor  off  the  town. 

There  was  a  wharf,  but  the  enterprising  Mexican  peasantry, 
who  subsist  by  poling  merchandise  ashore  in  dug-outs,  indi< 
nantly  tore  it  up.  We  take  on  here  some  young  Mexicans, 
from  Colima,  who  are  going  to  California.  They  are  of  the 
better  class,  and  one  young  man  (who  was  educated  in  Madrid) 
speaks  English  rather  better  than  I  write  it.  Be  careful  not 


CALIFORNIA.  195 

to  admire  any  article  of  an  educated  Mexican's  dress,  because 
if  you  do  he  will  take  it  right  off  and  give  it  to  .you,  and 
sometimes  this  might  be  awkward. 

I  said  :    "What  a  beautiful  cravat  you  wear !  " 

"  It  is  yours !  "  he  exclaimed,  quickly  unbuckling  it ;  and  I 
could  not  induce  him  to  take  it  back  again. 

I  am  glad  I  did  not  tell  his  sister,  who  was  with  him  and 
with  whom  I  was  hicky  enough  to  get  acquainted,  what  a 
beautiful  white  hand  she  had.  She  might  have  given  it  to  me 
on  the  spot ;  and  that,  as  she  had  soft  eyes,  a  queenly  form, 
and  a  half  million  or  so  in  her  own  right,  would  have  made 
me  feel  bad. 

Reports  reach  us  here  of  high-handed  robberies  by  the  ban- 
ditti all  along  the  road  to  the  City  of  Mexico.  They  steal 
clothes  as  well  as  coin.  A  few  days  since  the  mail  coach  en- 
tered the  city  with  all  the  passengers  stark-naked!  They  must 
have  felt  mortified. 


IT. 

CALIFORNIA. 

WE  reach  San  Francisco  one  Sunday  afternoon.  I  am 
driven  to  the  Occidental  Hotel  by  a  kind-hearted  hackman, 
who  states  that  inasmuch  as  I  have  come  out  there  to  amuse 
people,  he  will  only  charge  me  five  dollars.  I  pay  it  in  gold, 
of  course,  because  greenbacks  are  not  current  on  the  Pacific 
coast. 

Many  of  the  citizens  of  San  Francisco  remember  the  Sab- 
bath day  to  keep  it  jolly ;  and  the  theatres,  the  circus,  the 
minstrels,  and  the  music  halls  are  all  in  full  blast  to-night. 

I  "compromise,"  and  go  to  the  Chinese  theatre,  thinking 
perhaps  there  can  be  no  great  harm  in  listening  to  worldly  sen- 
timents when  expressed  in  a  language  I  don't  understand. 

The  Chinaman  at  the  door  takes  my  ticket  with  the  remark, 
"Kihi-hiki!  Shoolah!" 


196  CALIFORNIA. 

And  I  tell  him  that  on  the  whole  I  think  he  is  right. 

The  Chinese  play  is  "  continued,"  like  a  Ledger  story,  from 
night  to  night.  It  commences  with  the  birth  of  the  hero  or 
heroine,  which  interesting  event  occurs  publicly  on  the  stage  ; 
and  then  follows  him  or  her  down  to  the  grave,  where  it  cheer- 
fully ends. 

Sometimes  a  Chinese  play  lasts  six  months.  The  play  I  am 
speaking  of  had  been  going  on  for  about  two  months.  The 
heroine  had  grown  up  into  womanhood,  and  was  on  the  point, 
as  I  inferred,  of  being  married  to  a  young  Chinaman  in 
spangled  pantaloons  and  a  long  black  tail.  The  bride's  father 
comes  in  with  his  arms  full  of  tea-chests,  and  bestows  them, 
with  his  'blessing,  upon  the  happy  couple.  As  this  play  is  to 
run  four  months  longer,  however,  and  as  my  time  is  limited,  I 
go  away  at  the  close  of  the  second  act,  while  the  orchestra  is 
performing  an  overture  on  gongs  and  one-stringed  fiddles. 

The  door-keeper  again  says,  "  Ki  hi-hi  ki  !  Shoolah !  "  add- 
ing, this  time  however,  "  Chow-wow."  I  agree  with  him  in 
regard  to  the  ki  hi  and  hi  ki,  but  tell  him  I  don't  feel  alto- 
gether certain  about  the  chow- wow. 

To  Stockton  from  San  Francisco. 

Stockton  is  a  beautiful  town,  that  has  ceased  to  think  of  be- 
coming a  very  large  place,  and  has  quietly  settled  down  into  a 
state  of  serene  prosperity.  I  have  my  boots  repaired  here  by 
an  artist  who  informs  me  that  he  studied  in  the  penitentiary ; 
and  I  visit  the  lunatic  asylum,  where  I  encounter  a  vivacious 
maniac  who  invites  me  to  ride  in  a  chariot  drawn  by  eight 
lions  and  a  rhinoceros. 

John  Phoenix  was  once  stationed  at  Stockton,  and  put  his 
mother  aboard  the  San  Francisco  boat  one  morning  with  the 
sparkling  remark,  t(  Dear  mother,  be  virtuous  and  you  will  be 
happy ! " 


Forward  to  Sacramento  —  which  is  the  capital  of  the  State, 
and  a  very  nice  old  town. 


CALIFORNIA.  197 

They  had  a  flood  here  some  years  ago,  during  which  several 
blocks  of  buildings  sailed  out  of  town  and  had  never  been 
heard  from  since.  A  Chinaman  concluded  to  leave  in  a  wash- 
tub,  and  actually  set  sail  in  one  of  those  fragile  barks.  A 
drowning  man  hailed  him  piteously,  thus  :  "  Throw  me  a  rope, 
oh  throw  me  a  rope  !  "  To  which  the  Chinaman  excitedly 
cried,  "  No  have  got  —  how  can  do  ?  "  and  went  on,  on  with 
the  howling  current.  He  was  never  seen  more ;  but  a  few 
weeks  after  his  tail  was  found  by  some  Sabbath-school  children 
in  the  north  part  of  the  State. 


1  go  to  the  mountain  towns.  The  sensational  mining  days 
are  over,  but  I  find  the  people  jolly  and  hospitable  nevertheless. 

At  Nevada  I  am  called  upon,  shortly  after  my  arrival,  by  an 
athletic  scarlet-faced  man,  who  politely  says  his  name  is  Blaze. 

Years  ago  Mr.  Blaze  was  an  agent  of  the  California  Stage 
Company.  There  was  a  formidable  and  well-organized  oppo- 
sition to  the  California  Stage  Company  at  that  time,  and  Mr. 
Blaze  rendered  them  such  signal  service  in  his  capacity  of 
agent  that  they  were  very  sorry  when  he  tendered  his  resigna- 
tion. 

"  You  are  some  sixteen  hundred  dollars  behind  in  your  ac- 
counts, Mr.  Blaze,"  said  the  President,  "  but  in  view  of  your 
faithful  and  efficient  services  we  shall  throw  off  eight  hundred 
dollars  of  that  amount." 

Mr.  Blaze  seemed  touched  by  this  generosity.  A  tear  stood 
in  his  eye  and  his  bosom  throbbed  audibly. 

"  You  will  throw  off  eight  hundred  dollars  —  you  will?"  he 
at  last  cried,  seizing  the  President's  hand  and  pressing  it  pas- 
sionately to  his  lips. 

"  I  will,"  returned  the  President. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Blaze,  "  I'm  a  gentleman,  I  am,  you 
bet !  And  I  won't  allow  no  Stage  Company  to  surpass  me  in 
politeness.  Til  throw  off  the  oilier  eight  hundred^  and  we'll 


198 

call  it  square  ! 
duty." 


WASHOE. 


ISTo   gratitude,  sir  —  no   thanks ;    it   is   my 


I  get  back  to  San  Francisco  in  a  few  weeks,  and  am  to  start 
home  Overland  from  here. 

I  do  not  leave  the  Capital  of  California  in  a  light-hearted 
and  joyous  manner.  But  "  leaves  have  their  time  to  fall,"  and 
I  have  my  time  to  leave,  which  is  now. 

We  ride  all  day  and  all  night,  and  ascend  and  descend  some 
of  the  most  frightful  hills  1  ever  saw.  We  make  Johnson's 
Pass,  which  is  6752  feet  high,  about  two  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  go  down  the  great  Kingsbury  grade  with  locked  wheels. 
The  driver,  with  whom  I  sit  outside,  informs  me,  as  we  slowly 
roll  down  this  fearful  mountain  road,  which  looks  down  on 
either  side  into  an  appalling  ravine,  that  he  has  met  accidents 
in  his  time,  and  cost  the  California  Stage  Company  a  great  deal 
of  money;,  "  because,"  he  says,  "juries  is  agin  us  on  principle, 
and  every  man  who  sues  us  is  sure  to  recover.  But  it  will 
never  be  so  agin,  not  with  me,  you  bet." 

"  How  is  that  ?  "  I  said. 

It  was  frightfully  dark.  It  was  snowing  withal,  and  notwith- 
standing the  brakes  were  kept  hard  down,  the  coach  slewed 
wildly,  often  fairly  touching  the  brink  of  the  black  precipice. 

"How  is 'that?  "I  said. 

"  Why,  you  see,"  he  replied,  "  that  corpses  never  sue  for 
damages,  but  maimed  people  do.  And  the  next  time  I  have  a 
overturn  I  shall  go  round  and  keerfully  examine  the  passengers. 
Them  as  is  dead  I  shall  let  alone ;  but  them  as  is  mutilated  I 
shall  finish  with  the  king-bolt  !  Dead  folks  don't  sue.  They 
ain't  on  it." 

Thus  with  anecdote  did  this  driver  cheer  me  up. 


WE  reach  Carson  City  about  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
It  is  the  capital  of  the  Silver-producing  territory  of  Nevada. 


WASHOE.  199 

They  shoot  folks  here  somewhat,  and  the  law  is  rather  par- 
tial than  otherwise  to  first-class  murderers. 

I  visit  the  territorial  Prison,  and  the  Warden  points  out  the 
prominent  convicts  to  me,  thus : 

"  This  man's  crime  was  horse-stealing.     He  is  here  for  life." 
li  This  man  is  in  for  murder.     He  is  here  for  three  years." 
But  shooting  isn't. as  popular  in  Nevada  as  it  once  was.     A 
few  years  since  they  used  to  have  a  dead  man  for  breakfast 
every  morning.     A  reformed  desperado  told  me  that  he  sup- 
posed he  had  killed  men  enough  to  stock  a  graveyard.     <{  A 
feeling  of  remorse,"  he  said,  "  sometimes  comes  over  me  !     But 
I'm  an  altered  man  now.     I  hain't  killed  a  man  for  over  two 
weeks !     What'll  yer  poison  yourself  with  ?  "  he  added,  dealing 
a  resonant  blow  on  the  bar. 

There  used  to  live  near  Carson  City  a  notorious  desperado, 
who  never  visited  town  without  killing  somebody.  He  would 
call  for  liquor  at  some  drinking-house,  and  if  anybody  declined 
joining  him  he  would  at  once  commence  shooting.  But  one  day 
he  shot  a  man  too  many.  Going  into  the  St.  Nicholas  drinking- 
house  he  asked  the  company  present  to  join  him  in  a  North  Amer- 
ican drink.  One  individual  was  rash  enough  to  refuse.  With  a 
look  of  sorrow  rather  than  anger  the  desperado  revealed  his  re- 
volver, and  said,  "  Good  God  !  Must  I  kill  a  man  every  time 
I  come  to  Carson  ?  "  and  so  saying  he  fired  and  killed  the  in- 
dividual on  the  spot.  But  this  was  the  last  murder  the  blood- 
thirsty miscreant  ever  committed,  for  the  aroused  citizens  pur- 
sued him  with  rifles  and  shot  him  down  in  his  own  door-yard. 


I  lecture  in  the  theatre  at  Carson,  which  opens  out  of  a 
drinking  and  gambling  house.  On  each  side  of  the  door  where 
my  ticket-taker  stands  there  are  monte-boards  and  sweat-cloths, 
but  they  are  deserted  to-night,  the  gamblers  being  evidently  of 
a  literary  turn  of  mind. 

Five  years  ago  there  was  only  a  pony-path  over  the  precipi- 
tous hills  on  which  now  stands  the  marvellous  city  of  Virginia, 


200  ,      MR.  PEPPER. 

with  its  population  of  twelve  thousand  persons,  and  perhaps 
more.  Virginia,  with  its  stately  warehouses  and  gay  shops; 
its  splendid  streets,  paved  with  silver  ore  ;  its  banking  houses 
and  faro-banks ;  its  attractive  coffee-houses  and  elegant  theatre ; 
its  music  halls  and  its  three  daily  newspapers. 

I  visit  several  of  the  adjacent  mining  towns,  but  I  do  not  go 
to  Aurora.  No,  I  think  not.  A  lecturer  on  psychology  was 
killed  there  the  other  night  by  the  playful  discharge  of  a  horse- 
pistol  in  the  hands  of  a  degenerate  and  intoxicated  Spaniard. 
This  circumstance,  and  a  rumor  that  the  citizens  are  agin 
literature,  induce  me  to  go  back  to  Virginia. 


I  had  pointed  out  to  me  a  ta  restaurant  a  man  who  had  killed 
four  men  in  street  broils,  and  who  had  that  very  day  cut  his  own 
brother's  breast  open  in  a  dangerous  manner  with  a  small  sup- 
per knife.  He  was  a  gentleman,  however.  I  heard  him  tell 
some  men  so.  He  admitted  it  himself.  And  I  don't  think  he 
would  lie  about  a  little  thing  like  that. 

The  theatre  at  Virginia  will  attract  the  attention  of  the 
stranger,  because  it  is  an  unusually  elegant  affair  of  the  kind, 
and  would  be  so  regarded  anywhere.  It  was  built,  of  course, 
by  Mr.  Thomas  Maguire,  the  Napoleonic  manager  of  the  Pacific, 
and  who  has  built  over  twenty  theatres  in  his  time  and  will  per- 
haps build  as  many  more,  unless  somebody  stops  him  —  which, 
by  the  way,  will  not  be  a  remarkably  easy  thing  to  do. 

As  soon  as  a  mining  camp  begins  to  assume  the  proportions 
of  a  city,  at  about  the  time  the  whiskey-vender  draws  his  cork 
or  the  gambler  spreads  his  green  cloth,  Maguire  opens  a  theatre, 
and  with  a  hastily-organized  "  Vigilance  Committee  "  of  actors, 
commences  to  execute  Shakspeare. 


MY  arrival  at  Virginia  City  was  signalized  by  the  following 
incident : 


HORACE  GREELETS  EIDE  TO  PLACERVILLE.     201 

I  had  no  sooner  achieved  my  room  in  the  garret  of  the  Inter- 
national Hotel  than  I  was  called  upon  by  an  intoxicated  man, 
who  said  he  was  an  Editor.  Knowing  how  rare  it  was  for  an 
Editor  to  be  under  the  blighting  influence  of  either  spirituous 
or  malt  liquors,  I  received  this  statement  doubtfully.  But  I 
said. 

«  What  name?" 

"  Wait !  "  he  said,  and  went  out. 

I  heard  him  pacing  unsteadily  up  and  down  the  hall  outside. 

In  ten  minutes  he  returned,  and  said  : 

«  Pepper !  " 

Pepper  was  indeed  his  name.  He  had  been  out  to  see  if  he 
could  remember  it ;  and  he  was  so  flushed  with  his  success  that 
he  repeated  it  joyously  several  times,  and  then,  with  a  short 
laugh,  he  went  away. 

I  had  often  heard  of  a  man  being  "  so  drunk  that  he  didn't 
know  what  town  he  lived  in,"  but  here  was  a  man  so  hideously 
inebriated  that  he  didn't  know  what  his  name  was. 

I  saw  him  no  more,  but  I  heard  from  him.  For  he  published 
a  notice  of  my  lecture,  in  which  he  said  I  had  a  dissipated 
air  ! 


VII. 


HORACE  GREELEY  S  RIDE  TO  PLACERVILLE. 

WHEN  Mr.  Greeley  was  in  California  ovations  awaited  him 
at  every  town.  He  had  written  powerful  leaders  in  the  Tri- 
bune in  favor  of  the  Pacific  Railroad,  which  had  greatly  en- 
deared him  to  the  citizens  of  the  Golden  State.  And  therefore 
they  made  much  of  him  when  he  went  to  see  them. 

At  one  town  the  enthusiastic  populace  tore  his  celebrated 
white  coat  to  pieces,  and  carried  the  pieces  home  to  remember 
him  by. 

The  citizens  of  Placerville  prepared  to  fete  the  great  journal- 
ist, and  an  extra  coach,  with  extra  relays  of  horses,  was  char- 
9* 


202     HORACE  GREELEY^S  RIDE  TO  PLACERVILLE. 

terecl  of  the  California  Stage  Company  to  carry  him  from 
Folsorn  to  Placerville  —  distance,  forty  miles.  The  extra  was 
in  some  way  delayed,  and  did  not  leave  Folsom  until  late  in 
the  afternoon.  Mr.  Greeley  was  to  be  feted  at  7  o'clock  that 
evening  by  the  citizens  of  Placerville,  and  it  was  altogether 
necessary  that  he  should  be  there  by  that  hour.  So  the  Stage 
Company  said  to  Henry  Monk,  the  driver  of  the  extra, 
"  Henry,  this  great  man  must  be  there  by  7  to-night."  And 
Henry  -answered,  "  The  great  man  shall  be  there." 

The  roads  were  in  an  awful  state,  and  during  the  first  few 
miles  out  of  Folsom  slow  progress  was  made. 

"  Sir,"  said  Mr.  Greeley,  "  are  you  aware  that  I  must  be  at 
Placerville  at  7  o'clock  to-night  ?  " 

"  I've  got  my  orders !  "  laconically  returned  Henry  Monk. 

Still  the  coach  dragged  slowly  forward. 

"  Sir,"  said  Mr.  Greeley,  "  this  is  not  a  trifling  matter.  I 
must  be  there  at  7  !  " 

Again  came  the  answer,  "  I've  got  my  orders !  " 

But  the  speed  was  not  increased,  and  Mr.  Greeley  chafed 
away  another  half  hour ;  when,  as  he  was  again  about  to  remon- 
strate with  the  driver,  the  horses  suddenly  started  into  a  furious 
run,  and  all  sorts  of  encouraging  yells  filled  the  air  from  the 
throat  of  Henry  Monk. 

"  That  is  right,  my  good  fellow !  "  cried  Mr.  Greeley.  "  I'll 
give  you  ten  dollars  when  we  get  to  Placerville.  Now  we  are 
going!" 

They  were  indeed,  and  at  a  terrible  speed. 

Crack,  crack !  went  the  whip,  and  again  "  that  voice  "  split 
the  air.  "  Git  up !  Hi  yi !  G'long  !  Yip  —  yip !  " 

And  on  they  tore  over  stones  and  ruts,  up  hill  and  down,  at 
a  rate  of  speed  never  before  achieved  by  stage  horses. 

Mr.  Greeley,  who  had  been  bouncing  from  one  end  of  the 
coach  to  the  other  like  an  india-rubber  ball,  managed  to  get  his 
head  out  of  the  window,  when  he  said : 

"  Do — on't — on't — on't  you — u — u  think  we — e — e — e  shall 
get  there  by  seven  if  we  do — on't — on't  go  so  fast  ?  " 


HORACE  GREELEY' S  RIDE  TO  PLACERVILLE.    203 

"  I've  got  my  orders  !  "  That  was  all  Heniy  Monk  said. 
And  on  tore  the  coach. 

It  was  becoming  serious.  Already  the  journalist  was  ex- 
tremely sore  from  the  terrible  jolting,  and  again  his  head 
"  might  have  been  seen  "  at  the  window. 

li  Sir,"  he  said,  "  I  don't  care  —  care  —  air,  if  we  doift  get 
there  at  seven  !  " 

"  I  have  got  my  orders  !  "  Fresh  horses.  Forward  again, 
faster  than  before.  Over  rocks  and  stumps,  on  one  of  which 
the  coach  narrowly  escaped  turning  a  summerset. 

"  See  here !  "  shrieked  Mr.  Greeley,  "  I  don't  care  if  we 
don't  get  there  at  all !  " 

"  I've  got  my  orders  !  I  work  for  the  Californy  Stage 
Company,  I  do.  That's  wot  I  work  for.  They  said,  'git  this 
man  through  by  seving.'  An'  this  man's  goin'  through.  You 
bet !  Gerlong  !  Whoo-ep  !  " 

Another  frightful  j  olt,  and  Mr.  Greeley 's  bald  head  suddenly 
found  its  way  through  the  roof  of  the  coach,  amidst  the  crash 
of  small  timbers  and  the  ripping  of  strong  canvas. 

"  Stop,  you maniac  !  "  he  roared. 

Again  answered  Henry  Monk : 

"  I've  got  my  orders  !     Keep  your  seat,  Horace  !  " 

At  Mud  Springs,  a  village  a  few  miles  from  Placerville,  they 
met  a  large  delegation  of  the  citizens  of  Placerville,  who  had 
come  out  to  meet  the  celebrated  editor,  and  escort  him  into 
town.  There  was  a  military  company,  a  brass  band,  and  a  six- 
horse  wagon-load  of  beautiful  damsels  in  milk-white  dresses, 
representing  all  the  States  in  the  Union.  It  was  nearly  dark 
now,  but  the  delegation  were  amply  provided  with  torches, 
and  bonfires  blazed  all  along  the  road  to  Placerville. 

The  citizens  met  the  coach  in  the  outskirts  of  Mud  Springs, 
and  Mr.  Monk  reined  in  his  foam-covered  steeds. 

11  Is  Mr.  Greeley  on  board  ?  "  asked  the  chairman  of  the 
committee. 

"  He  was,  a  few  miles  back  !  "  said  Mr.  Monk  ;  "  yes,"  he 
added,  after  looking  down  through  the  hole  which  the  fearful 


204:  ^HORACE  GREELEY'S  RIDE  TO  PLACERVILLE. 

jolting  had  made  in  the  icoach-roof — "  yes,  I  can  see  him  !  He 
is  there !  " 

<£  Mr.  Greeley,"  said  the  Chairman  of  the  Committee,  pre- 
senting himself  at  the  window  of  the  coach,  "  Mr.  Greeley,  sir ! 

We  are  come  to  most  cordially  welcome  you,  sir why, 

God  bless  me,  sir,  you  are  bleeding  at  the  nose  !  " 

"  I've  got  my  orders  !  "  cried  Mr.  Monk.  "  My  orders  is 
as  follers :  Git  him  there  by  seving !  It  wants  a  quarter  to 
seving.  Stand  out  of  the  way  !  " 

"  But,  sir,"  exclaimed  the  Committee-man,  seizing  the  off 
leader  by  the  reins  —  "  Mr.  Monk,  we  are  come  to  escort  him 
into  town  !  Look  at  the  procession,  sir,  and  the  brass  band, 
and  the  people,  and  the  young  women,  sir  !  " 

"  I've  got  my  orders  /  "  screamed  Mr.  Monk.  f  My  orders 
don't  say  nothin'  about  no  brass  bands  and  young  women.  My 
orders  says,  '  git  him  there  by  seving  ?  '  Let  go  them  lines  ! 
Clear  the  way  there  !  Whoo-ep  !  KEEP  YOUR  SEAT,  HOR- 
ACE !  "  and  the  coach  dashed  wildly  through  the  procession, 
upsetting  a  portion  of  the  brass  band,  and  violently  grazing 
the  wagon  which  contained  the  beautiful  young  women  in 
white. 

Years  hence,  gray-haired  men,  who  were  little  boys  in  this  pro- 
cession, will  tell  their  grandchildren  how  this  stage  tore  through 
Mud  Springs,  and  how  Horace  Greeley 's  bald  head  ever  and 
anon  showed  itself,  like  a  wild  apparition,  above  the  coach- 
roof. 

Mr.  Monk  was  on  time.  There  is  a  tradition  that  Mr. 
Greeley  was  very  indignant  for  a  while ;  then  he  laughed,  and 
finally  presented  Mr.  Monk  with  a  bran  new  suit  of  clothes. 

Mr.  Monk  himself  is  still  in  the  employ  of  the  California 
Stage  Company,  and  is  rather  fond  of  relating  a  story  that  has 
made  him  famous  all  over  the  Pacific  coast.  But  he  says  he 
yields  to  no  man  in  his  admiration  for  Horace  Greeley. 


Horace  Greeley'a  gay  and  festive   adventures  on  the  overland  route  from  California, 
S+epageW-l. 


TO  REESE  RIVER.  205 

VIII. 

TO   REESE   RIVER. 

I  LEAVE  Virginia  for  Great  Salt  Lake  City,  vid  the  Reese 
River  Silver  Diggings. 

There  are  eight  passengers  of  us  inside  the  coach  —  which, 
by  the  way,  isn't  a  coach,  but  a  Concord  covered  mud 
wagon. 

Among  the  passengers  is  a  genial  man  of  the  name  of  Ryder, 
who  has  achieved  a  wide-spread  reputation  as  a  strangler  of  un- 
pleasant bears  in  the  mountain  fastnesses  of  California,  and 
who  is  now  an  eminent  Reese  River  miner. 

We  ride  night  and  day,  passing  through  the  land  of  the  Piute 
Indians.  Reports  reach  us  that  fifteen  hundred  of  these 
savages  are  on  the  Rampage,  under  the  command  of  a  red 
usurper  named  Buffalo  Jim,  who  seems  to  be  a  sort  of  Jeff 
Davis,  inasmuch  as  he  and  his  followers  have  seceded  from  the 
regular  Piute  organization.  The  seceding  savages  have  an- 
nounced that  they  shall  kill  and  scalp  all  pale-faces  (which 
makes  our  faces  pale,  I  reckon)  found  loose  in  that  section. 
"We  find  the  guard  doubled  at  all  the  stations  where  we  change 
horses,  and  our  passengers  nervously  examine  their  pistols  and 
readjust  the  long  glittering  knives  in  their  belts.  I  feel  in  my 
pockets  to  see  if  the  key  which  unlocks  the  carpet-bag  contain- 
ing my  revolvers  is  all  right — for  I  had  rather  brilliantly 
locked  my  deadly  weapons  up  in  that  article,  which  was 
strapped  with  the  other  baggage  to  the  rack  behind.  The  pas- 
sengers frown  on  me  for  this  carelessness,  but  the  kind-hearted 
Ryder  gives  me  a  small  double-barrelled  gun,  with  which  I 
narrowly  escape  murdering  my  beloved  friend  Kingston  in  cold 
blood.  I  am  not  used  to  guns  and  things,  and  in  changing  the 
position  of  this  weapon  I  pulled  the  trigger  rather  harder  than 
was  necessary. 


When  this  wicked  rebellion  first  broke  out  I  was  among  the 


206  TO  REESE  RIVER. 

first  —  to  stay  at  home  —  chiefly  because  of  my  utter  ignor- 
ance of  firearms.  I  should  be  valuable  to  the  Army  as  a  Briga- 
dier-General only  so  far  as  the  moral  influence  of  —  my  name 
went. 


However,  we  pass  safely  through  the  land  of  the  Piutes, 
unmolested  by  Buffalo  James.  This  celebrated  -savage  can 
read  and  write,  and  is  quite  an  orator,  like  Metamora,  or  the 
last  of  the  Wampanoags.  He  went  on  to  Washington  a  few 
years  ago  and  called  Mr.  Buchanan  his  Great  Father,  and  the 
members  of  the  Cabinet  his  dear  Brothers.  They  gave  him  a 
great  many  blankets,  and  he  returned  to  his  beautiful  hunting- 
grounds  and  went  to  killing  stage-drivers.  He  made  such  a 
fine  impression  upon  Mr.  Buchanan  during  his  sojourn  in 
Washington  that  that  statesman  gave  a  young  English  tourist, 
who  crossed  the  plains  a  few  years  since,  a  letter  of  introduc- 
tion to  him.  The  great  Indian  chief  read  the  English  person's 
letter  with  considerable  emotion,  and  then  ordered  him  scalped, 
and  stole  his  trunks. 

Mr.  Ryder  knows  me  only  as  t(  Mr.  Brown,"  and  he  refreshes 
me  during  the  journey  by  quotations  from  my  books  and 
lectures. 

"  Never  seen  Ward  ?  "  he  said. 

«  Oh  no." 

"  Ward  says  he  likes  little  girls,  but  he  likes  large  girls  just 

as  well.  Haw,  haw,  haw !  I  should  like  to  see  the  d 

fool ! " 

He  referred  to  me. 

He  even  woke  me  up  in  the  middle  of  the  night  to  tell  me 
one  of  Ward's  jokes. 


I  lecture  at  Big  Creek. 

Big  Creek  is  a  straggling,  wild  little  village ;  and  the  house 
in  which  I  had  the  honor  of  speaking  a  piece  had  no  other 


TO  REESE  EIVEE.  207 

floor  than  the  bare  earth.  The  roof  was  of  sage-brush.  At 
one  end  of  the  building  a  huge  wood  fire  blazed,  which,  with 
half-a-dozen  tallow-candles,  afforded  all  the  illumination  de- 
sired. The  lecturer  spoke  from  behind  the  drinking  bar.  Be- 
hind him  long  rows  of  decanters  glistened ;  above  him  hung 
pictures  of  race-horses  and  prize-fighters ;  and  beside  him,  in 
his  shirt-sleeves  and  wearing  a  cheerful  smile,  stood  the  bar- 
keeper. My  speeches  at  the  Bar  before  this  had  been  of  an 
elegant  character,  perhaps,  but  quite  brief.  They  never  ex- 
tended beyond  "  I  don't  care  if  I  do,"  "  No  sugar  in  mine," 
and  short  gems  of  a  like  character. 

I  had  a  good  audience  at  Big  Creek,  who  seemed  to  be 
pleased,  the  bar-keeper  especially;  for  at  the  close  of  any 
"  point "  that  I  sought  to  make  he  would  deal  the  counter  a 
vigorous  blow  with  his  fist,  and  exclaim,  il  Good  boy  from  the 
Xcw  England  States !  listen  to  William  W.  Shakspeare  !  " 

Back  to  Austin.  We  lose  our  way,  and  hitching  our  horses 
to  a  tree,  go  in  search  of  some  human  beings.  The  night  is 
very  dark.  We  soon  stumble  upon  a  camp-fire,  and  an  un- 
pleasantly modulated  voice  asks  us  to  say  our  prayers,  adding 
that  we  are  on  the  point  of  going  to  Glory  with  our  boots  on. 
I  think  perhaps  there  may  be  some  truth  in  this,  as  the  mouth 
of  a  horse-pistol  almost  grazes  my  forehead,  while  immediately 
behind  the  butt  of  that  death-dealing  weapon  I  perceive  a 
large  man  with  black  whiskers.  Other  large  men  begin  to  as- 
semble, also  with  horse-pistols.  Dr.  Kingston  hastily  explains, 
while  I  go  back  to  the  carriage  to  say  my  prayers,  where  there 
is  more  room.  The  men  were  miners  on  a  prospecting  tour, 
and  as  we  advanced  upon  them  without  sending  them  word 
they  took  us  for  highway  robbers. 

I  must  not  forget  to  say  that  my  brave  and  kind-hearted 
friend  Ryder  of  the  mail  coach,  who  had  so  often  alluded  to 
"  Ward  "  in  our  ride  from  Virginia  to  Austin,  was  among  my 
hearers  at  Big  Creek.  He  had  discovered  who  I  was,  and  in- 
formed me  that  he  had  debated  whether  to  wollop  me  or  give 
me  some  rich  silver  claims. 


208  GREAT  SALT  LAKE  CITY. 

IX. 

GREAT    SALT    LAKE    CITY. 

How  was  I  to  be  greeted  by  the  Mormons?  That  was 
rather  an  exciting  question  with  me.  I  had  been  told  on  the 
plains  that  a  certain  humorous  sketch  of  mine  (written  some 
years  before)  had  greatly  incensed  the  Saints,  and  a  copy  of 
the  Sacramento  Union  newspaper  had  a  few  days  before  fallen 
into  my  hands  in  which  a  Salt  Lake  correspondent  quite  clear- 
ly intimated  that  my  reception  at  the  new  Zion  might  be  un- 
pleasantly warm.  I  ate  my  dinner  moodily  and  sent  out  for 
some  cigars.  The  venerable  clerk  brought  me  six.  They  cost 
only  two  dollars.  They  were  procured  at  a  store  near  by.  The 
Salt  Lake  House  sells  neither  cigars  nor  liquors. 

I  smoke  in  my  room,  having  no  heart  to  mingle  with  the 
people  in  the  office. 

Dr.  Kingston  "  thanks  God  he  never  wrote  against  the  Mor- 
mons," and  goes  out  in  search  of  a  brother  Englishman.  Comes 
back  at  night  and  says  there  is  a  prejudice  against  me.  Advises 
me  to  keep  in.  Has  heard  that  the  Mormons  thirst  for  my 
blood  and  are  on  the  lookout  for  me. 

Under  these  circumstances  I  keep  in. 

The  next  day  is  Sunday,  and  we  go  to  the  Tabernacle,  in  the 

morning.     The  Tabernacle  is  located  on street,  and  is  a 

long  rakish  building  of  adobe,  capable  of  seating  some  twenty- 
five  hundred  persons.  There  is  a  wide  platform  and  a  rather 
large  pulpit  at  one  end  of  the  building,  and  at  the  other  end  is 
another  platform  for  the  choir.  A  young  Irishman  of  the 
name  of  Sloan  preaches  a  sensible  sort  of  discourse,  to  which  a  " 
Presbyterian  could  hardly  have  objected.  Last  night  this 
same  Mr.  Sloan  enacted  a  character  in  a  rollicking  Irish  farce 
at  the  theatre !  And  he  played  it  well,  I  was  told ;  not  so 
well,  of  course,  as  the  great  Dan  Bryant  could  ;  but  I  fancy 
he  was  more  at  home  in  the  Mormon  pulpit  than  Daniel  would 
have  been. 


GREAT  SALT  LAKE  CITY.  209 

The  Mormons,  by  the  way,  are  preeminently  an  amusement- 
loving  people,  and  the  Elders  pray  for  the  success  of  their  the- 
atre with  as  much  earnestness  as  they  pray  for  anything  else. 
The  congregation  doesn't  startle  us.  It  is  known,  I  fancy,  that 
the  heads  of  the  Church  are  to  be  absent  to-day,  and  the  at- 
tendance is  slim.  There  are  no  ravishingly  beautiful  women 
present,  and  no  positively  ugly  ones.  The  men  are  fair  to 
middling.  They  will  never  be  slain  in  cold  blood  for  their 
beauty,  nor  shut  up  in  jail  for  their  homeliness. 

There  are  some  good  voices  in  the  choir  to-day,  but  the  or- 
chestral accompaniment  is  unusually  slight.  Sometimes  they 
introduce  a  full  brass  and  string  band  in  Church.  Brigham 
Young  says  the  devil  has  monopolized  the  good  music  long 
enough,  and  it  is  high  time  the  Lord  had  a  portion  of  it. 
Therefore  trombones  are  tooted  on  Sundays  in  Utah  as  well  as 
on  other  days ;  and  there  are  some  splendid  musicians  there. 
The  Orchestra  in  Brigham  Young's  theatre  is  quite  equal  to 
any  in  Broadway.  There  is  a  youth  in  Salt  Lake  City  (I  for- 
get his  name)  who  plays  the  cornet  like  a  North  American  angel. 

Mr.  Stenhouse  relieves  me  of  any  anxiety  I  had  felt  in  re- 
gard to  having  my  swan-like  throat  cut  by  the  Danites,  but 
thinks  my  wholesale  denunciation  of  a  people  I  had  never 
seen  was  rather  hasty.  The  following  is  the  paragraph  to 
which  the  Saints  objected.  It  occurs  in  an  "  Artemus  Ward" 
paper  on  Brigham  Young,  written  some  years  ago : 

"  I  girded  up  my  Lions  and  fled  the  Seen.  I  packt  up  my 
duds  and  left  Salt  Lake,  which  is  a  2nd  Soddum  and  Germorer, 
inhabited  by  as  theavin'  &  onprincipled  a  set  of  retchis  as  ever 
drew  Breth  in  eny  spot  on  the  Globe." 

I  had  forgotten  all  about  this,  and  as  Elder  Stenhouse  read 
it  to  me  "  my  feelings  may  be  better  imagined  than  described," 
to  use  language  I  think  I  have  heard  before.  I  pleaded,  how- 
ever, that  it  was  a  purely  burlesque  sketch,  and  that  this 
strong  paragraph  should  not  be  interpreted  literally  at  all. 
The  Elder  didn't  seem  to  see  it  in  that  light,  but  we  parted 
pleasantly. 


210  THE  MOUNTAIN  FEVER. 


THE    MOUNTAIN    FEVER. 

I  GO  back  to  my  hotel  and  go  to  bed,  and  I  do  not  get  up 
again  for  two  weary  weeks.  I  have  the  mountain  fever  (so 
called  in  Utah,  though  it  closel}7  resembles  the  old-style  typhus) 
and  my  case  is  pronounced  dangerous.  I  don't  regard  it  so. 
I  don't,  in  fact,  regard  anything.  I  am  all  right,  myself.  My 
poor  Kingston  shakes  his  head  sadly,  and  Dr.  Williamson, 
from  Camp  Douglas,  pours  all  kinds  of  bitter  stuff  down  my 
throat.  I  drink  his  health  in  a  dose  of  the  cheerful  beverage 
known  as  jalap,  and  thresh  the  sheets  with  my  hot  hands.  I 
address  large  assemblages,  who  have  somehow  got  into  my 
room,  and  I  charge  Dr.  Williamson  with  the  murder  of  Luce, 
and  Mr.  Irwiu,  the  actor,  with  the  murder  of  Shakspeare.  I 
have  a  lucid  spell  now  and  then,  in  one  of  which  James  Town- 
send,  the  landlord,  enters.  He  whispers,  but  I  hear  what  he 
says  far  too  distinctly :  "  This  man  can  have  anything  and 
everything  he  wants;  but  I'm  no  hand  for  a  sick  room.  1 
never  could  see  anybody  die" 

That  was  cheering,  I  thought. 

I  lay  there  in  this  wild,  broiling  way  for  nearly  two  weeks, 
when  one  morning  I  woke  up  with  my  head  clear  and  an  im- 
mense plaster  on  my  stomach.  The  plaster  had  operated.  I 
was  so  raw  that  I  could  by  no  means  say  to  Dr.  Williamson, 
"Well  done,  thou  good  and  faithful  servant.  I  wished  he  had 
lathed  me  before  he  plastered  me.  I  was  fearfully  weak.  I 
was  frightfully  thin.  .  With  either  one  of  my  legs  you  could 
have  cleaned  the  stem  of  a  meerschaum  pipe.  My  backbone 
had  the  appearance  of  a  clothes-line  with  a  quantity  of  English 
walauts  strung  upon  it.  My  face  was  almost  gone.  My 
nose  was  so  sharp  that  I  didn't  dare  stick  it  into  other  people's 
business  for  fear  it  would  stay  there.  But  by  borrowing  my 
agent's  overcoat  I  succeeded  in  producing  a  shadow. 


THE  MOUNTAIN  FEVER.  211 

I  have  been  looking  at  Zion  all  day,  and  my  feet  are  sore 
and  my  legs  are  weary.  I  go  back  to  the  Salt  Lake  House 
and  have  a  talk  with  landlord  Townsend  about  the  State  of 
Maine.  He  came  from  that  bleak  region,  having  skinned  his 
infantile  eyes  in  York  county.  He  was  at  Nauvoo,  and  was 
forced  to  sell  his  entire  property  there  for  §50.  He  has  thrived 
in  Utah,  however,  and  is  much  thought  of  by  the  Church.  He 
is  an  Elder,  and  preaches  occasionally.  He  has  only  two 
wives.  I  hear  lately  that  he  has  sold  his  property  for  $25,000 
to  Brigham  Young,  and  gone  to  England  to  make  converts. 
How  impressive  he  may  be  as  an  expounder  of  the  Mormon 
gospel,  I  don't  know.  His  beefsteaks  and  chicken-pies,  how- 
ever, were  first-rate.  James  and  I  talk  about  Maine,  and  cor- 
dially agree  that  so  far  as  pine  boards  and  horse-mackerel  are 
concerned,  it  is  equalled  by  few  and  excelled  by  none.  There 
is  no  place  like  home,  as  Clara,  the  Maid  of  Milan,  very  justly 
observes  ;  and  while  J.  Townsend  would  be  unhappy  in  Maine, 
his  heart  evidently  beats  back  there  now  and  then. 

I  heard  the  love  of  home  oddly  illustrated  in  Oregon,  one 
night,  in  a  country  bar-room.  Some  well-dressed  men,  in  a 
state  of  strong  drink,  were  boasting  of  their  respective  places 
of  nativity. 

"  I,"  said  one,  '*  was  born  in  Mississippi,  where  the  sun 
ever  shines  and  the  magnolias  bloom  all  the  happy  year  round." 

"  And  I,"  said  another,  "  was  born  in  Kentucky  —  Ken- 
tucky, the  home  of  impassioned  oratory :  the  home  of  Clay  : 
the  State  of  splendid  women,  of  gallant  men !  " 

tl  And  I,"  said  another,  "  was  born  In  Virginia,  the  home  of 
Washington  :  the  birthplace  of  statesmen  :  the  State  of  chival- 
ric  deeds  and  noble  hospitality !  " 

"And  I,"  said  a  yellow-haired  and  sallow-faced  man,  who 
was  not  of  this  party  at  all,  and  who  had  been  quietly  smoking 
a  short  black  pipe  by  the  fire  during  their  magnificent  conver- 
sation —  "  and  I  was  born  in  the  garden  spot  of  America." 

<•'  \Vhere  is  that  ?  "  they  said. 


212 


I  AM  HERE."—BRIGHAM   YOUNG. 


"  Skeouhegan,  Maine  !  "  he  replied  ;  "kin  I  sell  you  a  razor 
strop  ?  " 


XI. 


"  I  AM   HERE." 

SITTING  in  a  New  Kngland  country  store   one  day  I  over- 
heard the  following  dialogue  between  two  brothers : 

"  Say,   Bill,  wot   you   done  with  that  air  sorrel  mare   of 

O    99 

yourn  r 

'*  Sold  her,"  said  William,  with  a  smile  of  satisfaction. 

"  Wot  'd  you  git  ?  " 

"  Himd'd  an'  fifty  dollars,  cash  deown !  " 

"  Show !  Hund'd  an'  fifty  for  that  kickin'  spavin'd  critter  ? 
Who'd  you  sell  her  to?" 

"  Sold  her  to  mother !  " 

"  Wot !  "  exclaimed  brother  No.  1,  "  did  you  railly  sell  that 
kickin'  spavin'd  critter  to  mother.  Wall,  you  air  a  shrewd 
one ! " 


XII. 


BRIGHAM   YOUNG. 


BRIGHAM  YOUNG  sends  word  I  may  see  him  to-morrow. 

At  two  o'clock  the  next  afternoon  Mr.  Hiram  B.  C 
Brigham  Young's  son-in-law  and  chief  business  manager,  calls 
for  me  with  the  Prophet's  private  sleigh,  and  we  start  for  tl 
distinguished  person's  block. 

I  am  shown  into  the  Prophet's  chief  office.  He  comes  fo 
ward,  greets  me  cordially,  and  introduces  me  to  several  influx 
tial  Mormons  who  are  present. 

Brigham  Young  is  62  years  old,  of  medium  height,  and  wit 


BRIGHAM  YOUNG.  213 

sandy  hair  and  whiskers.  An  active,  iron  man,  with  a  clear 
sharp  eye.  A  man  of  consummate  shrewdness —  of  great  ex- 
ecutive ability.  He  was  born  in  the  State  of  Vermont,  and  so 
by  the  way  was  Heber  C.  Kimball,  who  will  wear  the  Mormon 
Belt  when  Brigham  leaves  the  ring. 

Brigham  Young  is  a  man  of  great  natural  ability.  If  you 
ask  me,  How  pious  is  he  ?  I  treat  it  as  a  conundrum,  and  give 
it  up.  Personally  he  treated  me  with  marked  kindness  through- 
out my  sojourn  in  Utah. 

His  power  in  Utah  is  quite  as  absolute  as  that  of  any  living 
sovereign,  yet  he  uses  it  with  such  consummate  shrewdness 
that  his  people  are  passionately  devoted  to  him. 

He  was  an  Elder  at  the  first  formal  Mormon  "  stake  "  in  this 
country,  at  Kirtland,  Ohio,  and  went  to  Nauvoo  with  Joseph 
Smith.  That  distinguished  Mormon  handed  his  mantle  and 
the  Prophet  business  over  to  Brigham  when  he  died  at  Nauvoo 

Smith  did  a  more  flourishing  business  in  the  Prophet  line 
than  B.  Y.  does.  Smith  used  to  have  his  little  Revelation 
almost  every  day  —  sometimes  two  before  dinner.  B.  Y.  only 
takes  one  once  in  a  while. 

The  gateway  of  his  block  is  surmounted  by  a  brass  American 
eagle,  and  they  say  ("  they  say "  here  means  anti-Mormons) 
that  he  receives  his  spiritual  dispatches  through  this  piece  of 
patriotic  poultry.  They  also  say  that  he  receives  revelations 
from  a  stuffed  white  calf  that  is  trimmed  with  red  ribbons  and 
kept  in  an  iron  box.  I  don't  suppose  these  things  are  true. 
Rumor  says  that  when  the  Lion  House  was  ready  to  be  shingled, 
Brigham  received  a  message  from  the  Lord  stating  that 
the  carpenters  must  all  take  hold  and  shingle  it,  and  not  charge 
a  red  cent  for  their  services.  Such  carpenters  as  refused  to 
shingle  would  go  to  hell,  and  no  postponement  on  account  of 
the  weather.  They  say  that  Brigham,  whenever  a  train  of 
emigrants  arrives  in  Salt  Lake  City,  orders  all  the  women  to 
march  up  and  down  before  his  block,  while  he  stands  on  the 
portico  of  the  Lion  House  and  gobbles  up  the  prettiest  ones. 

He  is  an  immensely  wealthy  man.     His  wealth  is  variously 


214  BRIGHAM  YOUNG. 

estimated  at  from  ten  to  twenty  millions  of  dollars.  He  owns 
saw  mills,  grist  mills,  woollen  factories,  brass  and  iron  foundries, 
farms,  brick-yards,  <fcc.,  and  superintends  them  all  in  person. 

Nobody  seems  to  know  how  many  wives  Brigham  Young 
has.  Some  set  the  number  as  high  as  eighty,  in  which  case 
his  children  must  be  too  numerous  to  mention.  Each  wife  has 
a  room  to  herself.  These  rooms  are  large  and  airy,  and  I  sup- 
pose they  are  supplied  with  all  the  modern  improvements. 
But  never  having  been  invited  to  visit  them  I  can't  speak  very 
definitely  about  this.  When  I  left  the  Prophet  he  shook  me 
cordially  by  the  hand,  and  invited  me  to  call  again.  This  was 
nattering,  because  if  he  dislikes  a  man  at  the  first  interview  he 
never  sees  him  again.  He  made  no  allusion  to  the  "  letter  "  I 
had  written  about  his  community.  Outside  guards  were  pac- 
ing up  and  down  before  the  gateway,  but  they  smiled  upon  me 
sweetly.  The  veranda  was  crowded  with  Gentile  miners,  who 
seemed  to  be  surprised  that  I  didn't  return  in  a  wooden  over- 
coat, with  my  throat  neatly  laid  open  from  ear  to  ear. 


I  go  to  the  Theatre  to-night.  I  was  an  actor  once,  myself. 
I  supported  Edwin  Forrest  at  a  theatre  in  Philadelphia.  I 
played  a  pantomimic  part.  I  removed  the  chairs  between 
scenes,  and  I  did  it  so  neatly  that  Mr.  F.  said  I  would  make  a 
cabinet-maker  if  I  "  applied  "  myself. 


The  parquette  of  the  theatre  is  occupied  exclusively  by  tl 
Mormons  and  their  wives  and  children.     They  wouldn't  let 
Gentile  in  there  any  more  than  they  would  a  serpent.     In  th< 
side  seats  are  those  of  President's  Young's  wives  who  go  to  the 
play,  and  a  large  and  varied  assortment  of  children.     It  is  an 
odd  sight  to  see  a  jovial  old  Mormon  file  down  the  parquette 
aisle  with  ten  or  twenty  robust  wives  at  his  heels.     Yet  this 
spectacle  may  be  witnessed  every  night  the  theatre  is  opened. 


HURRAH  FOR  THE  ROAD!  215 

The  dress  circle  is  chiefly  occupied  by  the  officers  from  Camp 
Douglas  and  the  Gentile  Merchants.  The  upper  circles  are 
filled  by  the  private  soldiers  and  Mormon  boys.  I  feel  bound 
to  say  that  a  Mormon  audience  is  quite  as  appreciative  as  any 
other  kind  of  an  audience.  They  prefer  comedy  to  tragedy. 
Sentimental  plays,  for  obvious  reasons,  are  unpopular  with 
them.  It  will  be  remembered  that  when  C.  Melnotte,  in  the 
Lady  of  Lyons,  comes  home  from  the  wars,  he  folds  Pauline  to 
his  heaving  heart  and  makes  several  remarks  of  an  impassioned 
and  slobbering  character.  One  night  when  the  Lady  of  Lyons 
was  produced  here,  an  aged  Mormon  arose  and  went  out  with 
his  twenty-four  wives,  angrily  stating  that  he  wouldn't  sit  and 
see  a  play  where  a  man  made  such  a  cussed  fuss  over  one  woman. 

Brigham  Young  usually  sits  in  the  middle  of  the  parquette, 
in  a  rocking-chair,  and  with  his  hat  on.  He  does  not  escort 
his  wives  to  the  theatre.  They  go  alone.  When  the  play 
drags  he  either  falls  into  a  tranquil  sleep  or  walks  out.  He 
wears  in  winter  time  a  green  wrapper,  and  his  hat  is  the  style 
introduced  into  this  country  by  Louis  Kossuth,  Esq.,  the  liber- 
ator of  Hungaria.  (I  invested  a  dollar  in  the  liberty  of  Hun- 
garia  nearly  fifteen  years  ago.) 

I  lectured  here,  and  I  can  only  say  that  I  was  never  listened 
to  more  kindly  than  I  was  by  this  audience. 


XIII. 

HURRAH   FOR  THE    ROAD  !        •  0 

TIME,  Wednesday  afternoon,  February  10.  The  Overland 
Stage,  Mr.  William  Glover  on  the  box,  stands  before  the  ve- 
randa of  the  Salt  Lake  House. 

We  go  away  on  wheels,  but  the  deep  snow  compels  us  to 
substitute  runners  twelve  miles  out. 

There  are  four  passengers  of  us.  We  pierce  the  Wahsatch 
mountains  by  Parley's  canon. 


216  HUHEAII  FOR  THE  ROAD  f 

We  reach  Weber  station,  thirty  miles  from  Salt  Lake  City, 
and  wildly  situated  at  the  foot  of  the  grand  Echo  Cafion,  at  3 
o'clock  the  following  morning.  We  remain  over  a  day  here 
with  James  Bromley,  agent  of  the  Overland  Stage  line,  and 
who  is  better  known  on  the  plains  than  Shakspeare  is  ;  although 
Shakspeare  has  done  a  good  deal  for  the  stage.  James  Bromley 
has  seen  the  Overland  line  grow  up  from  its  ponyicy  ;  and  as 
Fitz-Green  Halleck  happily  observes,  none  know  him  but,  to 
like  his  style.  He  was  intended  for  an  agent.  In  his  infancy 
he  used  to  lisp  the  refrain, 

"  I  want  to  be  an  agent, 
And  with  the  agents  stand." 

Forward  to  Fort  Bridger,  in  an  open  sleigh.  Night  clear, 
cold,  and  moonlit.  Driver  Mr.  Samuel  Smart.  Through  Echo 
Canon  to  Hanging  Rock  Station.  The  snow  is  very  deep, 
there  is  no  path,  and  we  literally  shovel  our  way  to  Robert 
Pollock's  station,  which  we  achieve  in  the  Course  of  Time. 
Mr.  P.  gets  up  and  kindles  a  fire,  and  a  snowy  nightcap  and  a 
pair  of  very  bright  black  eyes  beam  upon  us  from  the  bed. 
That  is  Mrs.  Robert  Pollock.  The  log  cabin  is  a  comfortable 
one.  I  make  coffee  in  my  French  coffee-pot,  and  let  loose 
some  of  the  roast  chickens  in  my  basket.  Mrs.  Pollock  tells 
me  where  I  can  find  cream  for  the  coffee,  and  cups  and  saucers 
for  the  same,  and  appears  so  kind,  that  I  regret  our  stay  is  so 
limited  that  we  can't  see  more  of  her. 

On  to  Yellow  Creek  Station.  Then  Needle  Rock  —  a  deso- 
late hut  on  the  Desert,  house  and  barn  in  one  building.  The 
station-keeper  is  a  miserable,  toothless  wretch,  with  shaggy  yel- 
low hair,  but  says  he's  going  to  get  married.  I  think  I  see  him.  • 

Pass  Quaking  Asp  Springs  and  Muddy  to  Fort  Bridger.  Horo 
are  a  group  of  white  buildings,  built  round  a  plaza,  across  the 
middle  of  which  runs  a  creek. 

We  are  011  the  road  again,  Sunday  the  14th,  with  a  driver  of 
the  highly  floral  name  of  Primrose.  At  7  the  next  morning  we 
reach  Green  River  Station,  and  enter  Idaho  Territory.  This  is 


HURRAH  FOR   THE  ROAD!  217 

the  Bitter  Creek  division  of  the  Overland  route,  of  which  we  had 
heard  so  many  unfavorable  stories.  The  division  is  really  well 
managed  by  Mr.  Stewart.,  though  the  country  through  which  it 
stretches  is  the  most  wretched  I  ever  saw.  The  water  is  liquid 
alkali,  and  the  roads  are  soft  sand.  The  snow  is  gone  now, 
and  the  dust  is  thick  and  blinding.  So  drearily,  wearily  we 
drag  onward. 

We  reach  the  summit  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  at  midnight 
on  the  1 7th.  The  climate  changes  suddenly,  and  the  cold  is  in- 
tense. We  resume  runners,  have  a  breakdown,  and  are  forced 
to  walk  four  miles. 

I  remember  that  one  of  the  numerous  reasons  urged  in  favor 
of  General  Fremont's  election  to  the  Presidency  in  1856  was 
his  finding  the  path  across  the  Rocky  Mountains.  I  wrung  my 
frost-bitten  hands  on  that  dreadful  night,  and  declared  that  for 
me  to  deliberately  go  over  that  path  in  mid-winter  was  a  suf- 
ficient reason  for  my  election  to  any  lunatic  asylum,  by  an  over- 
whelming vote. 

Another  sensation.  Not  comic  this  time.  One  of  our  pas- 
sengers, a  fair-haired  German  boy,  whose  sweet  ways  had  quite 
won  us  all,  sank  on  the  snow,  and  said  —  Let  me  sleep.  We 
knew  only  too  well  what  that  meant,  and  tried  hard  to  rouse  him 
It  was  in  vain.  Let  me  sleep,  he  said.  And  so  in  the  cold 
starlight  he  died.  We  took  him  up  tenderly  from  the  snow, 
and  bore  him  to  the  sleigh  that  awaited  us  by  the  roadside,  some 
two  miles  away.  The  new  moon  was  shining  now,  and  the  smile 
on  the  sweet  white  face  told  how  painlessly  the  poor  boy  had 
died.  No  one  knew  him.  He  was  from  the  Bannock  mines, 
was  ill-clad,  had  no  baggage  or  money,  and  his  fare  was  paid  to 
Denver.  He  had  said  that  he  was  going  back  to  Germany. 
That  was  all  we  knew.  So  at  sunrise  the  next  morning  we 
buried  him  at  the  foot  of  the  grand  mountains  that  are  snow- 
covered  and  icy  all  the  year  round,  far  away  from  the  Faderland, 
where,  it  may  be,  some  poor  mother  is  crying  for  her  darling  who 
will  not  come. 

10 


218  HURRAH  FOtfTHE  ROAD! 

We  strike  the  North  Platte  on  the  18th. 

At  Elk  Mountain  we  encounter  a  religious  driver  named 
Edward  Whitney,  who  never  swears  at  the  mules.  This  has 
made  him  distinguished  all  over  the  plains.  Fort  Halleck  is  a 
mile  from  Elk,  and  here  are  some  troops  of  the  Ohio  llth  regi- 
ment, under  the  command  of  Major  Thomas  L.  Mackey. 

On  the  20th  we  reach  Rocky  Thomas's  justly  celebrated  sta- 
tion at  5  in  the  morning,  and  have  a  breakfast  of  hashed  black- 
tailed  deer,  antelope  steaks,  ham,  boiled  bear,  honey,  eggs,  coffee, 
tea,  and  cream.  That  was  the  squarest  meal  on  the  road  except 
at  Weber. 

To  Virginia  Dale.  Weather  clear  and  bright.  Virginia 
Dale  is  a  pretty  spot,  a  sit  ought  to  be  with  such  a  pretty  name  ; 
but  I  treated  with  no  little  scorn  the  advice  of  a  hunter  I  met 
there,  who  told  me  to  give  up  fl  literatoor,"  form  a  matrimonial 
alliance  with  some  squaws,  and  "  settle  down  thar.  " 

Bannock  on  the  brain !  That  is  what  is  the  matter  now.  WE 
on-load  after  wagon-load  of  emigrants,  bound  to  the  new  Ic 
gold  regions,  meet  us  every  hour.  Canvas-covered  and  di 
for  the  most  part  by  fine  large  mules,  they  make  a  pleasant 
orama,  as  they  stretch  slowly  over  the  plains  and  uplands, 
strike  the  South  Platte  Sunday,  the  21st,  and  breakfast  at 
Latham,  a  station  of  one-horse  proportions.  We  are  now  in 
Colorado  (  "  Pike's  Peak  "),  and  we  diverge  from  the  main  route 
here  and  visit  the  flourishing  and  beautiful  city  of  Denver, 
where  I  lecture. 

We  go  to  the  Mountains  from  Denver,  visiting  the  celebrated 
gold-mining  towns  of  Black  Hawk  and  Central  City.  I  leave 
this  queen  of  all  the  territories,  quite  firmly  believing  that  its 
future  is  to  be  no  less  brilliant  than  its  past  has  been. 

Back  to  Latham  again  over  a  marshy  road,  and  on  to  Nebraska 
by  the  main  stage-line. 

We  reach  Julesberg,  Colorado,  the  1st  of  March,  We  are 
in  the  country  of  the  Sioux  Indians  now,  and  encounter  them 
by  the  hundred.  A  Chief  offers  to  sell  me  his  daughter  (a  fair 
young  Indian  maiden)  for  six  dollars  and  two  quarts  of  whiskey. 
I  decline  to  trade. 


The  .Otoe  Indian  buries  his  tomahawk,  and  settles  down  to  farming.    Se<.'  page  219. 


VERT  MUCH  MARRIED.  219 

ITansas,  105  miles  from  Atchison.  Atchison  !  No  traveller 
by  sea  ever  longed  to  set  his  foot  on  shore  as  we  longed  to  reach 
the  end  of  our  dreary  coach-ride  over  the  wildest  part  of  the 
whole  continent.  How  we  talked  Atchison,  and  dreamed 
Atchison,  for  the  next  fifty  hours  !  Atchison,  I  shall  always 
love  you.  You  were  evidently  mistaken,  Atchison,  when  you 
told  me  that  in  case  I  "  lectured  "  there,  immense  crowds  would 
throng  to  the  hall  ;  but  you  are  very  dear  to  me.  Let  me  kiss 
you  for  your  maternal  parent ! 

We  are  passing  through  the  reservation  of  the  Otoe  Indians, 
who  long  ago  x^ashed  the  war-paint  from  their  faces,  buried  the 
tomahawk,  and  settled  down  into  quiet,  prosperous  farmers. 


We  rattle  leisurely  into  Atchison  on  a  Sunday  evening. 
Lights  gleam  in  the  windows  of  milk-white  churches,  and  they 
tell  us,  far  better  than  anything  else  could,  that  we  are  back  to 
civilization  again. 


XIY. 

VERY  MUCH  MAKRIED. 

ARE  the  Mormon  women  happy  ? 

I  give  it  up.  I  don't  know.  Apparently,  the  Mormon 
women  are  happy.  I  saw  them  at  their  best,  of  course  —  at 
balls,  tea-parties,  and  the  like.  They  were  like  other  women  as 
far  as  my  observation  extended.  They  were  hooped,  and  furbe- 
lowed,  and  shod,  and  white-collared,  and  bejewelled ;  and  like 
women  all  over  the  world,  they  were  softer-eyed  and  kinder- 
hearted  than  men  can  ever  hope  to  be. 

The  Mormon  girl  is  reared  to  believe  that  the  plurality  wife 
system  (as  it  is  delicately  called  here)  is  strictly  right ;  and  in 
linking  her  destiny  with  a  man  who  has  twelve  wives,  she  un- 


220  VERT  MUCH  MARRIED. 

doubtedly  considers  she  is  doing  her  duty.  She  loves  .the  man, 
probably,  for  I  think  it  is  not  true,  as  so  many  writers  have 
stated,  that  girls  are  forced  to  marry  whomsoever  "  the 
Church  "  may  dictate.  Some  parents  no  doubt  advise,  connive, 
threaten,  and  in  aggravated  cases  incarcerate  here,  as  some  par- 
ents have  always  done  elsewhere,  and  always  will  do  as  long  as 
petticoats  continue  to  be  an  institution. 

How  these  dozen  or  twenty  wives  get  along  without  heart- 
burnings and  hairpullings,  I  can't  see. 

There  are  instances  on  record,  you  know,  where  a  man  don't 
live  in  a  state  of  uninterrupted  bliss  with  one  wife.  And  to 
say  that  a  man  can  possess  twenty  wives  without  having  his 
special  favorite,  or  favorites,  is  to  say  that  he  is  an  angel  in 
boots  —  which  is  something  I  have  never  been  introduced  to. 
You  never  saw  an  angel  with  a  Beard,  although  you  may  have 
seen  the  Bearded  Woman. 

The  Mormon  woman  is  early  taught  that  man,  being  created 
in  the  image  of  the  Saviour,  is  far  more  godly  than  she  can  ever 
be,  and  that  for  her  to  seek  to  monopolize  his  affections  is  a 
species  of  rank  sin.  So  she  shares  his  affections  with  five  or  six 
or  twenty  other  women,  as  the  case  may  be. 

A  man  must  be  amply  able  to  support  a  number  of  wives  be- 
fore he  can  take  them.  Hence,  perhaps,  it  is  that  so  many  old 
chaps  in  Utah  have  young  and  blooming  wives  in  their  seraglios, 
and  so  many  young  men  have  only  one. 

I  had  a  man  pointed  out  to  me  who  married  an  entire  family. 
He  had  originally  intended  to  marry  Jane,  but  Jane  did  not 
want  to  leave  her  widowed  mother.  The  other  three  sisters 
were  not  in  the  matrimonial  market  for  the  same  reason ;  so 
this  gallant  man  married  the  whole  crowd,  including  the  girl's 
grandmother,  who  had  lost  all  her  teeth,  and  had  to  be  fed  with 
a  spoon.  The  family  were  in  indigent  circumstances,  and  they 
could  not  but  congratulate  themselves  on  securing  a  wealthy  hus- 
band. It  seemed  to  affect  the  grandmother  deeply,  for  the  first 
words  she  said  on  reaching  her  new  home  were  :  "  Now,  thank 
God  !  I  shall  have  my  gruel  reg'lar  !  " 


VERT  MUCH  MARRIED.  221 

The  name  of  Joseph  Smith  is  worshipped  in  Utah ;  and, 
"  they  say,"  that  although  he  has  been  dead  a  good  many  years, 
he  still  keeps  on  marrying  women  by  proxy.  He  (l  reveals " 
who  shall  act  as  his  earthly  agent  in  this  matter,  and  the  agent 
faithfully  executes  the  defunct  Prophet's  commands. 

I  have  somewhere  stated  that  Brigham  Young  is  said  to  have 
eighty  wives.  I  hardly  think  he  has  so  many.  Mr.  Hyde,  the 
backslider,  says  in  his  book  that  "  Brigham  always  sleeps  by 
himself,  in  a  little  chamber  behind  his  office ; "  and  if  he  has 
eighty  wives  I  don't  blame  him.  He  must  be  bewildered.  I 
know  very  well  that  if  I  had  eighty  wives  of  my  bosom  I  should 
be  confused,  and  shouldn't  sleep  anywhere.  I  undertook  to  count 
the  long  stockings,  on  the  clothes-line,  in  his  back  yard  one  day, 
and  I  used  up  the  multiplication  table  in  less  than  half  an 
hour. 

In  this  book  I  am  writing  chiefly  of  what  I  saw,  and  to  elab- 
orately denounce,  at  this  late  day,  a  system  we  all  know  must 
be  wildly  wrong,  would  be  simply  to  impeach  the  intelligence 
of  the  readers  of  this  book. 


Artemus  Ward  arrives  in  London — Introduces  himself  to  Mr 
Punch.     [See  Page  223.'] 


AETEMUS    WAED    IN    LONDON. 


THE   LONDON   PUNCH   LETTEES. 
I. 

ARRIVAL    IX    LONDON. 

.Sin.  Puxcn :  MY  DEAR  SIR,  —  You  prob'ly  didn't  meet  iny 
uncle  Wilyim  when  he  was  on  these  shores.  I  jedge  so  from 
the  fack  that  his  pursoots  wasn't  litrary.  Commerce,  which 
it  has  been  trooly  observed  by  a  statesman,  or  somebody, 
is  the  foundation  stone  onto  which  a  nation's  greatness  rests, 
glorious  Commerce  was  Uncle  Wilyim's  fort.  He  sold  soap. 
It  smelt  pretty,  and  redily  commanded  two  pents  a  cake.  I'm. 
the  only  litrary  man  in  our  fam'ly.  It  is  troo,  I  once  had  a 
dear  cuzzun  who  wrote  22  verses  onto  "  A  Child  who  nearly 
Died  of  the  Measles,  O !  "  but  as  he  injoodiciously  introjuced 
a  chorious  at  the  end  of  each  stansy,  the  parrents  didn't  like  it 
at  all.  The  father  in  particler  wept  afresh,  assaulted  my  cuzzun, 
and  said  he  never  felt  so  ridicklus  in  his  intire  life.  The  on- 
happy  result  was  that  my  cuzzun  abandind  poetry  forever,  and 
went  back  to  shoemakin,  a  shattered  man. 

My  Uncle  "Wilyim  disposed  of  his  soap,  and  returned  to  his 
nativ  land  with  a  very  exolted  opinyon  of  the  British  public. 
t(  It  is  a  edycated  community,"  said  he  ;  "  they're  a  intellectooal 
peple.  In  one  small  village  alone  I  sold  50  cakes  of  soap,  in- 
cloodin  barronial  halls,  where  they  offered  me  a  ducal  coronet, 


224:       THE  LONDON  PUNCH  LETTERS. 

but  I  said  no  —  give  it  to  the  poor."  This  was  the  way  Uncle 
"VVilyim  went  on.  He  told  us,  however,  some  stories  that  was 
rather  too  much  to  be  easily  swallerd.  In  fade,  my  Undo 
Wilyini  was  not  a  emblem  of  trooth.  He  retired  some  years 
ago  on  a  hansum  comptency  derived  from  the  insurance-money 
he  received  on  a  rather  shaky  skooner  he  owned,  and  which 
turned  up  while  lyin  at  a  wharf  one  night,  the  cargo  havin 
fortnitly  been  remooved  the  day  afore  the  disastriss  calamty  oc- 
curd.  Uncle  Wilyini  said  it  was  one  of  the  most  sing'ler 
things  he  ever  heard  of;  and,  after  collectin  the  insurance 
money,  he  bust  into  a  flood  of  tears,  and  retired  to  his  farm 
in  Pennsylvany.  He  was  my  uncle  by  marriage  only.  I  do 
not  say  that  he  wasn't  a  honest  man.  I  simply  say  that  if 
you  have  a  uncle,  and  bitter  experunce  tells  you  it  is  more 
profitable  in  a  pecoonery  pint  of  view  to  put  pewter  spoons  in- 
stid  of  silver  ones  onto  the  table  when  that  uncle  dines  with 
you  in  a  frenly  way  —  I  simply  say,  there  is  sumthun  wrong  in 
our  social  sistim,  which  calls  loudly  for  reform. 

I  'rived  on  these  shores  at  Liverpool,  and  proceeded  at 
once  to  London.  I  stopt  at  the  Washington  Hotel  in  Liv- 
erpool, because  it  was  named  after  a  countryman  of  mine 
who  didn't  get  his  living  by  makin'  mistakes,  and  whose 
mem'ry  is  dear  to  civilized  peple  all  over  the  world,  bo- 
cause  he  was  gentle  and  good  as  well  as  trooly  great. 
We  read  in  Histry  of  any  number  of  great  individooals,  but 
how  few  of  'em,  alars  !  should  we  want  to  take  home  to  supper 
with  us !  Among  others,  I  would  call  your  attention  to  Alex- 
ander the  Great,  who  conkerd  the  world,  and  wept  because  he 
couldn't  do  it  sum  more,  and  then  took  to  gin-aiid-seltzer,  get- 
tin'  tight  every  day  afore  dinner  with  the  most  disgustin'  reg'- 
larity,  causin'  his  parunts  to  regret  they  hadn't  'prenticed  him 
in  his  early  youth  to  a  biskit-baker,  or  some  other  occupation 
of  a  peaceful  and  quiet  character.  I  say,  therefore,  to  the  great 
men  now  livin'  (you  could  put  'em  all  into  Hyde  Park,  by  the 
way,  and  still  leave  room  for  a  large  and  respectable  concourse 
of  rioters)  —  be  good.  I  say  to  that  gifted  but  bald-heded 


ARRIVAL  IN  LONDON.  225 

Prooshun,  Bismarck,  bs  good  and  gentle  in  your  hour  of  tri. 
ump.  I  always  am.  I  admit  that  our  lines  is  different,  Bis- 
marck's and  mine ;  but  the  same  glo'rus  principle  is  involved- 
I  am  a  exhibiter  of  startlin'  curiositys,  wax  works,  snaix,  etsetry 
("  either  of  whom,"  as  a  American  statesman  whose  name  I 
ain't  at  liberty  to  mention  for  perlitical  resins,  as  he  expecks 
to  be  a  candidate  for  a  prom'nent  offiss,  and  hence  doesn't  wish 
to  excite  the  rage  and  jelisy  of  other  showmen  —  "either  of 
whom  is  wuth  dubble  the  price  of  admission  ")  ;  I  say  I  am  a 
exhibiter  of  startlin  curiositys,  and  I  also  have  my  hours  of 
triump,  but  I  try  to  be  good  in  'em.  If  you  say,  "  Ah,  yes, 
but  also  your  hours  of  grief  and  misfortin ; "  I  answer,  it  is 
troo,  and  you  prob'ly  refer  to  the  circumstans  of  my  hirin'  a 
young  man  of  dissypated  habits  to  fix  hisself  up  as  a  A  real 
Cannibal  from  New  Zeelan,  and  when  I  was  simply  tellin  the 
audience  that  he  was  the  most  feroshus  Cannibal  of  his  tribe, 
id  that,  alone  and  unassisted,  he  had  et  sev'ril  of  our  fellow- 
mntrymen,  and  that  he  had  at  one  time  even  contemplated 
his  Uncle  Thomas  on  his  mother's  side,  as  well  as  other 
lear  and  dear  relatives,  —  when  I  was  makin'  these  simple 
itements,  the  mis'ble  young  man  said  I  was  a  Iyer,  and  knockt 
off  the  platform.  Not  quite  satisfied  with  this,  he  cum  and 
hevily  on  me,  and  as  he  was  a  very  muscular  person  and 
rore  remarkable  thick  boots,  I  knew  at  once  that  a  canary  bird 

't  walkin'  over  me. 

I  admit  that  my  ambition  overlept  herself  in  this  instuns, 
id  I've  been  very  careful  ever  since  to  deal  square  with  the 
iblic.  If  I  was  the  public  I  should  insist  on  squareness,  tho' 
shouldn't  do  as  a  portion  of  my  audience  did  on  the  occasion 
jest  mentioned,  which  they  was  emplyed  in  sum  naberin'  coal 
ines.  "  As  you  hain't  got  no  more  Cannybals  to  show  us,  old 
i,"  said  one  of  'em,  who  seemed  to  be  a  kind  of  leader  among 
i'  —  a  tall  dis'greeble  skoundril  —  "  as  you  seem  to  be  out  of 
Cannybals,  we'll  sorter  look  round  here  and  fix  things.  Them 
wax  figgers  of  yours  want  washin'.  There's  Napoleon  Bony 
parte  and  Julius  Caesar  —  they  must  have  a  bath,"  with  which 


226  ARRIVAL  IN  LONDON. 

coarse  and  brutal  remark  he  imitated  the  shrill  war-hoop  of  the 
western  savige,  and,  assisted  by  his  infamus  coal-heavin  com- 
panyins,  he  threw  all  my  wax-work  into  the  river,  and  let  my 
wild  bears  loose  to  pray  on  a  peaceful  and  inoffensive  agricul- 
tooral  community. 

Leavin  Liverpool  (I'm  goin'  back  there,  tho  —  I  want  to  see 
the  Docks,  which  I  heard  spoken  of  at  least  once  while  1  was 
there)  I  cum  to  London  in  a  1st  class  car,  passin'  the  time 
very  agreeable  in  discussin,  with  a  countryman  of  mine,  the 
celebrated  Schleswig-Holstein  question.  We  took  that  int'rest- 
ing  question  up  and  carefully  traced  it  from  the  time  it  com- 
menced being  so,  down  to  the  present  day,  when  my  countryman, 
at  the  close  of  a  four  hours'  annymated  debate,  said  he  didn't 
know  anything  about  it  himself,  and  he  wanted  to  know  if  I 
did.  I  told  him  that  I  did  not.  He's  at  Bamsgate  now,  and 
I  am  to  write  him  when  I  feel  like  givin  him  two  days  in  which 
to  discuss  the  question  of  negro  slavery  in  America.  But  now 
I  do  not  feel  like  it. 

London  at  last,  and  I'm  stoppin  at  the  Greenlion  tavern.  I 
like  the  lan'lord  very  much  indeed.  He  had  fallen  into  a  few 
triflin  errers  in  regard  to  America  —  he  was  under  the  impres- 
sion, for  instance,  that  we  et  hay  over  there,  and  had  horns 
growin  out  of  the  back  part  of  our  heads  —  but  his  chops  and 
beer  is  ekal  to  any  I  ever  pertook.  You  must  cum  and  see 
me  and  bring  the  boys.  I'm  told  that  Garrick  used  to  cum 
here,  but  I'm  growin  skeptycal  about  Garrick's  favorit  taverns. 
I've  had  over  500  public-houses  pinted  out  to  me  where  Garrick 
went.  I  was  indooced  one  night,  by  a  seleck  comp'ny  of  Brit- 
ons, to  visit  sum  25  public-houses,  and  they  conndontially  told 
me  that  Garrick  used  to  go  to  each  one  of  'em.  Also,  Dr. 
Johnson.  This  won't  do,  you  know. 

May  be  I've  rambled  a  bit  in  this  comrn.  any  cation.  I'll  try 
and  be  more  collected  in  my  next,  and  meanwhile,  b'lieve  me 

TrooJy  Yours, 

ARTEMUS   WARD. 


PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS.  227 


II. 


PERSONAL    RECOLLECTIONS. 

YOU'LL  be  glad  to  learn  that  I've  made  a  good  impression 
onto  the  mind  of  the  lan'lord  of  the  Greenlion  tavern.  He 
made  a  speech  about  me  last  night.  Eisin'  in  the  bar  he  spoke 
as  follers,  there  bein  over  20  individooals  present:  "This 
North  American  has  been  a  inmate  of  my  'ouse  over  two  weeks, 
yit  he  hasn't  made  no  attempt  to  scalp  any  member  of  my 
fam'ly.  He  hasn't  broke  no  cups  or  sassers,  or  furnitur  of  any 
kind.  (Hear,  Jtear.)  I  find  I  can  trust  him  with  lited  candles. 
He  eats  his  wittles  with  a  knife  and  a  fork.  Peple  of  this  kind 
should  be  encurridged.  I  purpose  'is  'elth  !  "  (Loud  ^plaws.) 

What  could  I  do  but  modestly  get  up  and  express  a  fervint 
hope  that  the  Atlantic  Cable  would  bind  the  two  countries  still 
more  closely  together  ?  The  lan'lord  said  my  speech  was  full 
of  orig'nality,  but  his  idee  was  the  old  stage  coach  was  more 
safer,  and  he  tho't  peple  would  indors  that  opinyin  in  doo  time. 

I'm  gettin'  on  exceedin'  well  in  London.  I  see  now,  however, 
that  I  made  a  mistake  in  orderin'  my  close  afore  I  left  home. 
The  trooth  is  the  taler  in  our  little  villige  owed  me  for  a  pig 
and  I  didn't  see  any  other  way  of  gettin'  my  pay.  Ten  years 
ago  these  close  would  no  doubt  have  been  fash'n'ble,  and  per- 
haps they  would  be  ekally  sim'lar  ten  years  hens.  But  now 
they're  dilT'rently.  The  taler  said  he  know'd  they  was  all  right, 
because  he  had  a  brother  in.  Wales  who  kept  him  informed 
about  London  fashins  reg'lar.  This  was  a  infamus  falsehood. 
But  as  the  ballud  says  (which  I  heard  a  gen'l'man  in  a  new 
soot  of  black  close  and  white  kid  gloves  sing  t'other  night), 
Never  don't  let  us  Despise  a  Man  because  he  wears  a  Raggid 
Coat !  I  don't  know  as  we  do,  by  the  way,  tho'  we  gen'rally 
get  out  of  his  way  pretty  rapid ;  prob'ly  on  account  of  the  pity 
which  tears  our  boosums  for  his  onhappy  condition. 

This  last  remark  is  a  sirkastic  and  witherin'  thrust  at  them 


228  PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS. 

blotid  peple  who  live  in  gilded  saloons.  I  tho't  I'd  explain  my 
meanin'  to  you.  I  frekently  have  to  explain  the  meanin'  of 
my  remarks.  I  know  one  man  - —  and  he's  a  man  of  varid 
'complishments —  who  often  reads  my  articles  over  20  times 
afore  he  can  make  anything  of  'em  at  all.  Our  skoolmaster  to 
home  says  this  is  a  pecoolerarity  of  geneyus.  My  wife  says  it 
is  a  pecoolerarity  of  infernal  nonsens.  She's  a  exceedin' 
practycal  woman.  I  luv  her  muchly,  however,  and  humer 
her  little  ways.  It's  a  recklis  falshood  that  she  henpecks 
me,  and  the  young  man  in  our  neighborhood  who  said  to  me 
one  evenin',  as  I  was  mistenin'  my  diafrani  with  a  gentle 
cocktail  at  the  villige  tavun  —  who  said  to  me  in  these  very 
langwidge,  "Go  home,  old  man,  oriless  you  desires  to  have 
another  teapot  throwd  at  you  by  B.  J.,"  probly  regrets  havin 
said  so.  I  said,  "  Betsy  Jane  is  my  wife's  front  name,  gentle 
yooth,  and  I  permits  no  person  to  alood  to  her  as  B.  J.  out- 
side of  the  family  circle,  of  which  I  am  it  principally  my- 
self. Your  other  observations  I  scorn  and  disgust,  and  I  must 
pollish  you  off."  He  was  a  able-bodied  young  man,  and,  re- 
moovin  his  coat,  he  inquired  if  I  wanted  to  be  ground  to 
powder  ?  I  said,  Yes :  if  there  was  a  Powder-grindist  handy, 
nothin  would  'ford  me  greater  pleasure,  when  he  struck  me  a 
painful  blow  into  my  right  eye,  causin'  me  to  make  a  rapid 
retreat  into  the  fireplace.  I  hadn't  no  idee  that  the  enemy 
was  so  well  organised.  But  I  rallied  and  went  for  him,  in  a 
rayther  vigris  style  for  my  time  of  life.  His  parunts  lived 
near  by,  and  I  will  simply  state  15  minits  had  only  elapst  after 
the  first  act  when  he  was  carried  home  on  a  shutter.  His 
mama  met  the  sollum  procession  at  the  door,  and  after  keer- 
fully  looking  her  orfspring  over,  she  said,  "  My  son,  I  see  how 
it  is  distinctually.  You've  been  foolin'  round  a  Trashin 
Masheen.  You  went  in  at  the  place  where  they  put  the  grain 
in,  cum  out  with  the  straw,  and  you  got  up  into  the  thingamy- 
jig,  and  let  the  horses  tred  on  you,  didn't  you,  my  son?  "  The 
pen  of  no  liven  Orthur  could  describe  that  disfortnit  young 
man's  sittywation  more  clearer.  But  I  was  sorry  for  him,  and 


PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS.  229 

I  went  and  missed  him  till  he  got  well.  His  reg'lar  original 
father  being  absent  to  the  war,  I  told  him  I'd  be  a  father  to 
him  myself.  He  smilt  a  sickly  smile,  and  said  I'd  already 
been  wus  than  two  fathers  to  him. 

I  will  here  obsarve  that  fitin  orter  be  allus  avided,  excep  in 
extreem  cases.  My  principle  is,  if  a  man  smites  me  on  the 
right  cheek  I'll  turn  my  left  to  him,  prob'ly ;  but  if  he  insin- 
ooates  that  my  gran'm  other  wasn't  all  right,  I'll  punch  his 
hed.  But  fitin  is  mis'ble  bisniss,  gen'rally  speakin,  and  when- 
ever any  enterprisin  countryman  of  mine  cums  over  here  to 
scoop  up  a  Briton  in  the  prize  ring  I'm  allus  excessively 
tickled  when  he  gets  scooped  hisself,  which  it  is  a  sad  fack  has 
thus  far  been  the  case  —  my  only  sorrer  bein'  that  t'other 
feller  wasn't  scooped  likewise.  It's  diff'rently  with  scull  in 
boats,  which  is  a  manly  sport,  and  I  can  only  explain  Mr. 
Hamil's  resunt  defeat  in  this  country  on  the  grounds  that  he 
wasn't  used  to  British  water.  I  hope  this  explanation  will  be 
entirely  satisfact'ry  to  all. 

As  I  remarked  afore,  I'm  gettin'  on  well.  I'm  aware  that 
I'm  in  the  great  metrop'lis  of  the  world,  and  it  doesn't  make 
me  onhappy  to  admit  the  fack.  A  man  is  a  ass  who  dispoots 
it.  That's  all  that  ails  him.  I  know  there  is  sum  peple  who 
cum  over  here  and  snap  and  snarl  'bout  this  and  that :  I 
know  one  man  who  says  it  is  a  shame  and  a  disgraice  that  St. 
Paul's  Church  isn't  a  older  edifiss ;  he  says  it  should  be  years 
and  even  ages  older  than  it  is;  but  I  decline  to  hold  myself 
responsible  for  the  conduck  of  this  idyit  simply  because  he's 
my  countryman.  I  spose  every  civ'lised  land  is  endowed  with 
its  full,  share  of  gibberin'  idyits,  and  it  can't  be  helpt —  least- 
ways I  can't  think  of  any  efiectooal  plan  of  helpin'  it. 

I'm  a  little  sorry  you've  got  politics  over  here,  but  I  shall 
not  diskuss  'em  with  nobody.  Tear  me  to  peaces  with  wild 
omnibus  hosses,  and  I  won't  diskuss  'em.  I've  had  quite  enuff 
of  'em  at  home,  thank  you.  I  was  at  Birmingham  t'other 
night,  and  went  to  the  great  meetin'  for  a  few  minits.  I 


230 


PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS. 


hadn't  been  in  the  hall  long  when  a  stern-lookin'  artisan  said 
to  me: 

«  You  ar  from  "Wales?" 

No,  I  told  him  I  didn't  think  I  was.  A  hidgyis  tho't  flasht 
over  me.  It  was  of  that  oiiprincipled  taler,  and  I  said,  "  Has 
my  clothin'  a  Welchy  appearance  ?  " 

"  Not  by  no  means,"  he  answered,  and  then  he  said,  "  And 
what  is  your  opinyin  of  the  present  crisis  ?  " 

I  said,  "  I  don't  zackly  know.     Have  you  got  it  very  bad  ?  " 

He  replied,  a  Sir,  it  is  sweepin'  over  England  like  the  Cy- 
moon  of  the  Desert !  " 

"  Wall,"  I  said,  "  let  it  sweep  !  " 

He  ceased  me  by  the  arm  and  said,  "  Let  us  glance  at 
hist'ry.  It  is  now  some  two  thousand  years  —  " 

"  Is  it,  indeed?  "  I  replied. 

"  Listin !  "  he  fiercely  cried ;  ({ it  is  only  a  little  over  two 
thousand  years  since  —  " 

"  Oh,  bother  !  "  I  remarkt,  "  let  us  go  out  and  git  some  beer." 

"  No,  Sir.  I  want  no  gross  and  sensual  beer.  I'll  not 
move  from  this  spot  till  I  can  vote.  Who  ar  you  ?  " 

I  handed  him  my  card,  which,  in  addition  to  my  name,  con- 
tains a  elabrit  description  of  my  show.  "  Now,  Sir,"  I  proudly 
said,  <c  you  know  me  ?  " 

"  I  sollumly  swear,"  he  sternly  replied,  "  that  I  never  heard 
of  you,  or  your  show,  in  my  life  !  " 

"  And  this  man,"  I  cried  bitterly,  "  calls  hisself  a  intelligent 
man,  and  thinks  he  orter  be  allowed  to  vote !  What  a  holler 
mockery !  " 

I've  no  objection  to  ev'ry  intelligent  man  votin'  if  he  wants 
to.  It's  a  pleasant  amoosement,  no  doubt ;  but  there  is  those 
whose  igrance  is  so  dense  and  loathsum  that  they  shouldn't  be 
trustid  with  a  ballit  any  more'n  one  of  my  trained  serpunts 
should  be  trusted  with  a  child  to  play  with. 

I  went  to  the  station  with  a  view  of  retumin'  to  town  on 
the  cars.  "  This  way,  Sir,"  said  the  guard ;  "  here  you  ar," 


"  Has  my  clothin*  a  Welchy  appearance?  " — See  page  230. 


TEE  GREENLION  AND  OL1VEU  CROMWELL.      231 

and  he  pinted  to  a  first-class  carrige,  the  sole  ockepant  of  which 
was  a  rayther  prepossessin'  female  of  about  30  summers. 

"  No,  I  thank  you,"  I  ernestly  replied,  "  I  prefer  to  walk." 
I  am,  dear  Sir, 

Very  respectivly  yours, 

ARTEMUS  WARD. 


III. 


THE    GREENLION   AND    OLIVER    CROMWELL. 

MR.  PUNCH,  MY  DEAR  SIR,  —  It  is  now  two  weeks  since 
a  rayther  strange  lookin  man  engaged  'partments  at  the  Green- 
lion.  He  stated  he  was  from  the  celebrated  United  States, 
but  beyond  this  he  said  nothin.  He  seem'd  to  prefer  solly- 
tood.  He  remained  mostly  in  his  room,  and  whenever  he  did 
show  hisself  he  walkt  in  a  mood}'-  and  morose  manner  in  the 
garding,  with  his  heel  bowed  down  and  his  arms  foldid  across 
his  brest.  He  reminded  me  sumwhat  of  the  celebrated  but 
onhappy  Mr.  Holler,  in  the  cheerful  play  of  The  Stranger. 
This  man  puzzled  me.  I'd  been  puzzled  afore  several  times, 
but  never  so  severally  as  npw.  Mine  Ost  of  the  Greenlion 
said  I  must  interrigate  this  strange  bein,  who  claimed  to  be  my 
countryman.  "  He  hasn't  called  for  a  drop  of  beer  since  he's 
been  in  this  ere  Ouse,"  said  the  landlord.  "  I  look  to  you," 
he  added,  ii  to  clear  up  this  dark,  this  orful  inistry !  " 

I  wringed  the  lan'lord's  honest  hand,  and  told  him  to  con- 
sider the  mistry  cleared  up. 

I  gained  axes  to  the  misterus  bein's  room,  and  by  talkiii 
sweet  to  him  for  a  few  minits,  I  found  out  who  he  was.  Then 
returnin  to  the  lan'lord,  who  was  nervisly  pacin  up  and  down 
the  bar,  I  said, 

t{  Sweet  ROLANDO,  don't  tremble  no  more  !  I've  torn  the 
marsk  from  the  hawty  stranger's  face,  and  dived  into  the  re- 
cesses of  his  inmost  sole  !  He's  a  Trans-Mejim !  " 


232      THE  GREENLION  AND  OLIVER  CROMWELL. 

I'd  been  to  the  Beefanham  theatre  the  previs  evenin,  and 
probly  the  drammer  I  saw  affected  me,  because  I'm  not  in  the 
habit  of  goin  on  as  per  above.  I  like  the  Beefaiiham  theatre 
very  much  indeed,  because  there  a  enthoosiastic  lover  of  the 
theatre  like  myself  can  unite  the  legitermit  drammer  with  fish. 
Thus,  while  your  enrapterd  soul  drinks  in  the  lorfty  and  noble 
sentences  of  the  gifted  artists,  you  can  eat  a  biled  mack'ril  jest 
as  comfor'bly  as  in  your  o\yn  house.  I  felt  constrained,  how- 
ever, to  tell  a  fond  mother  who  sot  immegitly  behind  me,  and 
who  was  accompanied  by  a  gin  bottle  and  a  young  infant  —  I 
felt  constrained  to  tell  that  mother,  when  her  infant  playfully 
mingled  a  rayther  oily  mack'ril  with  the  little  hair  which  is 
left  on  my  vener'ble  hed,  that  I  had  a  bottle  of  scented  hair  oil 
at  home,  which  on  the  whole  I  tho't  I  preferred  to  that  which 
her  orf spring  was  greasin  me  with.  This  riled  the  excellent 
female,  and  she  said,  (( Git  out !  You  never  was  a  infank 
yourself,  I  spose  !  Oh  no  !  You  was  too  good  to  be  a  infank, 
you  was !  You  slid  into  the  world  all  ready  grow'd,  didn't 
you?  Git  out !  "  "  No,  Madam,"  I  replied,  "  I  too  was  once 
a  infant !  I  was  a  luvly  child.  Peple  used  to  come  in  large 
and  enthoosiastic  crowds  from  all  parts  of  the  country  to  see 
me,  I  was  such  a  sweet  and  intel'gent  infant.  The  excitement 
was  so  intens,  in  fack,  that  a  extra  hotel  was  startid  in  the 
town  to  accomodate  the  peple  who  thronged  to  my  cradle." 
Havin  finished  these  troothful  statemints,  I  smilt  sweetly  on 
the  worthy  female.  She  said,  "  Drat  you,  what  do  you  come 
a-chaffiii  me  for  ?  "  and  the  estymible  woman  was  really  gettin 
furis,  when  I  mollyfied  her  by  praisiii  her  child,  and  by  axin 
pardin  for  all  I'd  said.  "  This  little  gal,"  I  observed,  "  this 
surprisingly  luvly  gal  —  "  when  the  mother  said,  "  It's  t'other 
sect  is  he,  Sir:  it's  a  boy."  "Wall,"  I  said,  "then  this  little 
boy,  whose  eye  is  like  a  eagle  a-soaring  proudly  in  the  azure 
sky,  will  some  day  be  a  man,  if  he  don't  choke  hisself  to  death 
in  childhood's  sunny  hours  with  a  smelt  or  a  bloater,  or  some 
other  drefful  calamity.  How  surblime  the  tho't,  my  dear 
Madam,  that  this  infant  as  you  fondle  on  your  knee  on  this 


Artemus    Ward    as    Capting    of    the     Home     Guards — Sef 
page  233. 


THE  OREENLION  AND  OLIVER  CROMWELL.      203 

night,  may  grow  up  into  a  free  and  independent  citizen,  whoso 
vote  will  be  worth  from  ten  to  fifteen  pounds,  accordin  as 
suffrages  may  range  at  that  joy  us  perid  !  " 

Let  us  now  return,  jentle  reader,  to  the  landlord  of  the 
Greenlion,  who  we  left  in  the  bar  in  a  state  of  anxiety  and 
perspire.  Rubbin  his  hot  face  with  a  red  hankercher,  he  said, 
"  Is  the  strange  bein  a  American  ?  " 

"He  is." 

"AGen'ral?" 

"No." 

"A  Colonial?" 

"  No." 

"AMajer?" 

"NotaMajer." 

"ACapting?" 

"  He  is  not." 

"  A  leftenant?" 

"  Not  even  that." 

"Then,"  said  the  landlord  of  the  Greenlion,  "you  ar  de- 
ceeved !  He  is  no  countryman  of  yours." 

'•'Why  not?"  I  said. 

"  I  will  tell  you,  Sir,"  said  the  lan'lord.  "  My  son-in-law  is 
employed  in  a  bankin  house  where  ev'ry  American  as  comes  to 
these  shores  goes  to  git  his  drafts  casht,  and  he  says  that  not 
one  has  arrived  on  these  shores  durin  the  last  18  months  as 
wasu't  a  Gen'ral,  a  Colonial,  a  Majer,  a  Capting,  or  a  leftenant ! 
This  man,  as  I  said  afore,  has  deceeved  you !  He's  a  im- 
postuer !  " 

I  reeled  into  a  chair.  For  a  minit  I  was  speechlis.  At 
length  I  murmerd,  "  Alars !  I  fear  it  is  too  troo  !  Even  I  was 
n  Capting  of  the  Home  Gards." 

"  To  be  sure,"  said  the  lan'lord ;  you  all  do  it  over  there." 

"  Yvrall,"  I  said,  "whatever  nation  this  person  belongs  to, 
"  vre  may  as  well  go  and  hear  him  lectur  this  evenin.  He  is 
one  of  these  spirit  fellers  —  he  is  a  Trans-Mejini,  and  when  he 
slings  himself  into  a  trans-state  he  says  the  sperrits  of  de- 


234      THE  GREENLION  AND  OLIVER  CROMWELL. 

parted  great  men  talk  through  him.  He  says  that  to-night 
sev'ril  em'nent  persons  will  speak  through  him  —  among  others, 
Cromwell." 

u  And  this  Mr.  Cromwell  —  is  he  dead  ?  "    said  the  lan'lord. 

I  told  him  that  Oliver  was  no  more. 

"  It's  a  umbug,"  said  the  lan'lord ;  to  which  I  replied  that 
we'd  best  go  and  see,  and  we  went.  We  was  late,  on  account 
of  the  lan'lord's  extensiv  acquaintans  with  the  public  house 
keepers  along  the  road,  and  the  hall  was  some  two  miles  dis- 
tant, but  we  got  there  at  last.  The  hall  was  about  half  full, 
and  the  Mejim  was  just  then  assurnin'  to  be  Benjamin  Frank- 
lin, who  was  speakin  about  the  Atlantic  Cable. 

He  said  the  Cable  was  really  a  merrytorious  affair,  and  that 
messiges  could  be  sent  to  America,  and  there  was  no  doubt 
about  their  gettin  there  in  the  course  of  a  week  or  two,  which 
he  said  was  a  beautiful  idear,  and  much  quicker  than  by 
steamer  or  canal-boat.  It  struck  me  that  if  this  was  Franklin 
a  spiritooal  life  hadn't  improved  the  old  gentleman's  mtellecks 
particly. 

The  audiens  was  mostly  composed  of  rayther  pale  peple, 
whose  eyes  I  tho't  rolled  round  in  a  somewhat  wild  manner. 
But  they  was  well-behaved,  and  the  females  kept  saying, 
"  How  beautiful !  What  a  surbliine  thing  it  is,"  et  cctry,  et 
cetry.  Among  the  females  was  one  who  was  a  fair  and  rosy 
young  woman.  She  sot  on  the  same  seat  we  did,  and  the  lan'- 
lord of  the  Greenlion,  whose  frekent  iiitervoos  with  other  lan'- 
lords  that  evenin  had  been  too  much  for  him,  fastened  his  left 
eye  on  the  fair  and  rosy  young  person,  and  smilin  lovinly  upon 
her,  said,  "  You  may  give  me,  my  dear,  four-penny-worth  of 
gin  —  cold  gin.  I  take  it  cold,  because " 

There  was  cries  of  "  Silence  !  Shame !  Put  him  out !  the 
Skoffer  !  " 

"  Ain't  we  at    the   Spotted  Boar  ? "  the   lan'lord   hoarsely 
whispered. 

"  No,"  I  answered.  "  It's  another  kind  of  bore.  Lis'en. 
Cromwell  is  goin'  to  speak  through  our  inspired  fren',  now." 


THE  GREENLION  AND  OLIVER  CROMWELL.      235 

"Is  he?  "said  the  lan'lord—  <cis  he?  Wall,  I've  suthin 
to  say,  also.  Was  this  Cromwell  a  licensed  vittler  ?  " 

"  Not  that  I  ever  heard,"  I  anserd. 

"  I'm  sorry  for  that,"  said  the  lan'lord  with  a  sigh ;  "  but 
you  think  he  was  a  man.  who  would  wish  to  see  licensed  vit- 
tlers  respected  in  their  rights  ?  " 

"  No  doubt." 

"Wall,"  said  the  lan'lord,  "  jest  you  keep  a  eye  on  me." 
Then  risin  to  his  feet  he  said,  in  a  somewhat  husky  yet  tol'bly 
distink  voice,  "  Mr.  Crumbwell !  " 

"  Cromwell !  "  I  cried. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Cromwell :  that's  the  man  I  mean,  Mr.  Cromble ! 
won't  you  please  advise  that  gen'l'man  who  you're  talkin 
through  ;  won't  you  advise  'im  during  your  elekant  speech  to 
settle  his  bill  at  my  'ouse  to-night,  Mr.  Crumbles,"  said  the 
lan'lord,  glarin'  savigely  round  on  the  peple,  "  because  if  he 
don't,  there'll  be  a  punched  'ed  to  be  seen  at  the  Greenlion, 
where  I  don't  want  no  more  of  this  everlasting  nonsens.  Fll 
talk  through  'im  !  Here's  a  sperrit,"  said  the  lan'lord,  a  smile 
once  more  beainin  on  his  face,  (i  which  will  talk  through  hiin 
like  a  Dutch  father  !  I'm  the  sperrit  for  you,  young  feller  !  " 
"  You're  a  helthy  old  sperret,"  I  remarkt ;  and  then  I  saw  the 
necessity  of  gettin  him  out  of  the  hall.  The  wimin  was  yel- 
lin  and  screamin,  and  the  men  was  hollerin'  perlice.  A  per- 
liceman  really  came  and  collerd  my  fat  fren.  t(  It's  only  a  fit, 
Sir  Richard,"  I  said.  I  always  call  the  perlice  Sir  Richard. 
It  pleases  them  to  think  I'm  the  victim  of  a  deloosion  ;  and 
they  always  treat  me  perlitely.  This  one  did,  certainly,  for  he 
let  us  go.  We  saw  no  more  of  the  Trans-Mejim. 

It's  difnkilt,  of  course,  to  say  how  long  these  noosances  will 
bo  allowed  to  prowl  round.  I  should  say,  however,  if  pressed 
for  a  answer,  that  they  will  prob'ly  continner  on  jest  about  as 
long  as  they  can  find  peple  to  lis'en  to  'em.  Ain  I  right  ? 

Yours,  faithfull, 

ARTEMUS  WARD. 


236 


AT  THE  TOMB  OF  SHAKSPEARE. 


IY. 


AT    THE    TOMB    OF    SHAKSPEARE. 

MR.  PUNCH,  MY  DEAR  SIR,  —  I've  been  lingerin  by  the 
Tomb  of  the  lamentid  Shakspeare. 

It  is  a  success. 

I  do  not  hes'tate  to  pronounce  it  as  such. 

You  may  make  any  use  of  this  opinion  that  you  see  fit.  If 
you  think  its  publication  will  subswerve  the  cause  of  littera- 
oor,  you  may  publicate  it. 

I  told  my  wife  Betsy  when  I  left  home  that  I  should  go  to 
the  birthplace  of  the  orthur  of  Otlieller  and  other  Plays.  She 
said  that  as  long  as  I  kept  out  of  Newgate  she  didn't  care 
where  I  went.  "  But,"  I  said,  "  don't  you  know  he  was  the 
greatest  Poit  that  ever  lived?  Not  one  of  these  common 
poits,  like  that  young  idyit  who  writes  verses  to  our  daughter, 
about  the  Roses  as  growses,  and  the  Breezes  as  blowses  —  but 
a  Boss  Poit — also  a  philosopher,  also  a  man  who  knew  a  great 
deal  about  everything." 

She  was  packing  my  things  at  the  time,  and  the  only  answer 
she  made  was  to  ask  me  if  I  was  goin  to  carry  both  of  my  red 
flannel  night  caps. 

Yes.  I've  been  to  Stratford  onto  the  Avon,  the  Birthplace 
of  Shakspeare.  Mr.  S.  is  now  no  more.  He's  been  dead  over 
three  hundred  (300)  years.  The  peple  of  his  native  town  are 
justly  proud  of  him.  They  cherish  his  mem'ry,  and  them  as 
sell  picturs  of  his  birthplace,  &c.,  make  it  prof  tible  cherishin  it. 
Almost  everybody  buys  a  pictur  to  put  into  their  Albiom. 

As  I  stood  gazing  on  the  spot  where  Shakspeare  is  s'posed  to 
have  fell  down  on  the  ice  and  hurt  hisself  when  a  boy,  (this 
spot  cannot  be  bought  —  the  town  authorities  say  it  shall 
never  be  taken  from  Stratford)  I  wondered  if  three  hundred 
years  hence  picturs  of  my  birthplace  will  be  in  demand  ?  Will 


AT  THE  TOMS  OF  SHAKSPEARE.  237 

the  peple  of  my  native  town  be  proud  of  rne  in  three  hundred 
years?  I  guess  they  won't  short  of  that  time  because  they 
say  the  fat  man  weighing  1000  pounds  which  I  exhibited  there 
was  stuffed  out  with  pillers  and  cushions,  which  he  said  one 
very  hot  day  in  July,  "  Oh  bother,  I  can't  stand  this,"  and 
commenced  pullin  the  pillers  out  from  under  his  weskit,  and 
heavin  'em  at  the  audience.  I  never  saw  a  man  lose  flesh  so 
fast  in  my  life.  The  audience  said  I  was  a  pretty  man  to  come 
chiselin  my  own  townsmen  in  that  way.  I  said,  "  Do  not  be 
angry,  feller-citizens.  I  exhibited  him  simply  as  a  work  of 
art.  I  simply  wished  to  show  you  that  a  man  could  grow 
fat  without  the  aid  of  cod-liver  oil."  But  they  wouldn't 
listen  to  me.  They  are  a  low  and  grovelin  set  of  peple,  who 
excite  a  feelin  of  loathin  in  every  brest  where  lorfty  emo- 
tions and  original  idees  have  a  bidin  place. 

I  stopped  at  Leamington  a  few  minits  on  my  way  to  Strat- 
ord  onto  the  Avon,  and  a  very  beautiful  town  it  is.  I  went 
into  a  shoe  shop  to  make  a  purchis,  and  as  I  entered  I  saw 
over  the  door  those  dear  familiar  words,  "  By  Appintment : 
H.  R.  H. ; "  and  I  said  to  the  man,  "  Squire,  excuse  me,  but 
this  is  too  much.  I  have  seen  in  London  four  hundred  boot 
and  shoe  shops  by  Appintment :  H.  R.  H. ;  and  now  y outre 
at  it.  It  is  simply  onpossible  that  the  Prince  can  wear  400 
pairs  of  boots.  Don't  tell  me,"  I  said,  in  a  voice  choked  with 
emotion  —  "  Oh,  do  not  tell  ms  that  you  also  make  boots  for 
Jim.  Say  slippers  —  say  that  you  mend  a  boot  now  and  then 
for  him ;  but  do  not  tell  me  that  you  make  'em  reg'lar  for 
him." 

The  man  smilt,  and  said  I  didn't  understand  these  things. 
He  said  I  perhaps  had  not  noticed  in  London  that  dealers  in 
all  sorts  of  articles  was  By  Appintment.  I  said,  t(  Oh,  Iiadn't 
I  ?  "  Then  a  sudden  thought  flasht  over  me.  "  I  have  it !  "  I 
said.  "  When  the  Prince  walks  through  a  street,  he  no  doubt 
looks  at  the  shop  windows." 

The  man  said,  l(  No  doubt." 

"  And  the  enterprisin  tradesman,"  I  continnerd,  "  the  mo- 


238  AT  THE  TOMB  OF  SHAKSPEAEE. 

ment  the  Prince  gets  out  of  sight,  rushes  frantically  and  has 
a  tin  sign  painted,  By  Appintment,  H.  R.  H.  !  It  is  a  beauti- 
ful, a  great  idee  !  " 

I  then  bought  a  pair  of  shoe  strings,  and  wringin  the  shop- 
man's honest  hand,  I  started  for  the  tomb  of  Shakspeare  in  a 
hired  fly.  It  look't  however  more  like  a  spider. 

"  And  this,"  I  said,  as  I  stood  in  the  old  church-yard  at 
Stratford,  beside  a  Tombstone,  "  this  marks  the  spot  where 
lies  William  W.  Shakspeare.  Alars !  and  this  is  the  spot 
where  — " 

You've  got  the  wrong  grave,"  said  a  man  —  a  worthy  vil- 
lager :  "  Shakspeare  is  buried  inside  the  church." 

"  Oh,"  I  said,  "  a  boy  told  me  this  was  it."  The  boy  larfed 
and  put  the  shillin  I'd  given  him  onto  his  left  eye  in  a  inglori- 
ous manner,  and  commenced  moving  backwards  towards  the 
street. 

I  pursood  and  captered  him,  and  after  talking  to  him  a  spell 
in  a  skarcastic  stile,  I  let  him  went. 

The  old  church  was  damp  and  chill.  It  was  raiiiin.  The 
only  persons  there  when  I  entered  was  a  fine  bluff  old  gentle- 
man who  was  talking  in  a  excited  manner  to  a  faslmibly  dressed 
young  man.  (l  2sTo,  Ernest  Montresser,"  the  old  gentleman 
said,  "it  is  idle  to  pursoo  this  subjeck  no  further.  You  can 
never  marry  my  daughter.  You  were  seen  last  Monday  in 
Piccadilly  without  a  urnbreller !  I  said  then,  as  I  say  now, 
any  young  man  as  venturs  out  in  a  uncertain  climit  like  this 
without  a  umbreller,  lacks  foresight,  caution,  strength  of  mind 
and  stability;  and  he  is  not  a  proper  person  to  intrust  a 
daughter's  happiness  to." 

I  slapt  the  old  gentleman  on  the  shoulder,  and  I  said, 
"  You're  right !  You're,  one  of  those  kind  of  men,  you  are  —  " 

He  wheeled  suddenly  round,  and  in  a  indignant  voice,  said, 
Cf  Go  way  —  go  way !  This  a  privit  intervoo." 

I  didn't  stop  to  enrich  the  old  gentleman's  mind  with  my  con 
versation.  I  sort  of  inferred  that  he  wasn't  inclined  to  listen  to 
me,  and  so  I  went  on.  But  he  was  right  about  the  umbreller. 


- 


Artemus  Ward  visits  the  Tomb  of  Shakspeare  and  makes  a 
slight  mistake— See  page  238. 


AT  THE  TOMB  OF  SHAKSPEARE.  230 

I'm  really  delighted  with  this  grand  old  country,  Mr.  Punch, 
but  you  must  admit  that  it  does  rain  ray  the  r  numerously  here. 
Whether  this  is  owing  to  a  monerkal  form  of  gov'ment  or  not, 
I  leave  all  candid  and  onprejudiced  persons  to  say. 

William  Shakspeare  was  born  in  Stratford  in  1564.  All  the 
commentators,  Shaksperian  scholars,  etsetry,  are  agreed  on  this, 
which  is  about  the  only  thing  they  are  agreed  on  in  regard  to  him, 
except  that  his  mantle  hasn't  fallen  onto  any  poet  or  dramatist 
hard  enough  to  hurt  said  poet  or  dramatist  much.  And  there 
is  no  doubt  if  these  commentaters  and  persons  continner  inves- 
tigatin  Shakspeare's  career,  we  shall  not,  in  doo  time,  know  any- 
thing about  it  at  all.  When  a  mere  lad  little  William  attended 
the  Grammar  School,  because,  as  he  said,  the  Grammar  School 
wouldn't  attend  him.  This  remarkable  remark,  comin  from 
one  so  young  and  inexperunced,  set  peple  to  thinkin  there 
might  be  somethin  in  this  lad.  He  subsequently  wrote  Ham- 
let and  George  Barnwdl.  When  his  kind  teacher  went  to 
London  to  accept  a  position  in  the  offices  of  the  Metropolitan 
Hail  way,  little  William  was  chosen  by  his  fellow  pupils  to  de- 
liver a  farewell  address.  "  Go  on,  Sir,"  he  said,  "  in  a  glorus 
career.  Be  like  a  eagle,  and  soar,  and  the  soarer  you  get  the 
more  we  shall  all  be  gratified !  That's  so." 

My  young  readers,  who  wish  to  know  about  Shakspeare,  bet- 
ter get  these  vallyable  remarks  framed. 

I  returned  to  the  hotel.  Meetin  a  young  married  couple, 
they  asked  me  if  I  could  direct  them  to  the  hotel  which  Wash- 
ington Irving  used  to  keep  ? 

'•'  I've  understood  that  he  was  onsuccessful  as  a  lan'lord,"  said 
the  lady. 

61  We've  understood,"  said  the  young  man,  "  that  he  busted 
up." 

I  told  'em  I  was  a  stranger,  and  hurried  away.  They  were 
from  my  country,  and  ondoubtedly  represented  a  thrifty  lie 
well  somewhere  in  Pennsylvany.  It's  a  common  thing,  by  the 
Vv-ay,  for  a  old  farmer  in  Pennsylvany  to  wake  up  some  niornin 
and  find  ile  squirtin  all  around  his  back  yard.  He  sells  out  for 


240  IS  INTRODUCED  AT  THE  CLUB. 

'norinous  price,  and  his  children  put  on  gorgeous  harness  and 
starb  on  a  tower  to  astonish  peple.  They  succeed  in  doin  it. 
Meantime  the  He  squirts  and  squirts,  and  Time  rolls  on.  Let 
it  roll. 

A  very  nice  old  town  is  Stratford,  and  a  capital  inn  is  the 
Red  Horse.  Every  admirer  of  the  great  S.  must  go  there  once 
certinly ;  and  to  say  one  isn't  a  admirer  of  him,  is  equv'lent 
to  say  in  one  has  jest  about  brains  enough  to  become  a  efficient 
tinker. 

Some  kind  person  has  sent  me  Chawcer's  poems.  Mr.  C. 
had  talent,  but  he  couldn't  spel.  No  man  has  a  right  to  be  a 
lit'rary  man  onless  he  knows  how  to  spel.  It  is  a  pity  that 
Chawcer,  who  had  geneyus,  was  so  unedicated.  He's  the  wuss 
speller  I  know  of. 

I  guess  I'm  through,  and  so  I  lay  down  the  pen,  which  is  more 
mightier  than  the  sword,  but  which  I'm  fraid  would  stand  a 
rayther  slim  chance  beside  the  needle  gun. 

Adoo  !  adoo ! 

ARTEMUS  WARD. 


Y. 


IS    INTRODUCED     AT    THE    CLUB. 

MR.  PUNCH,  MY  DEAR  SIR,  —  It  is  seldim  that  the  Com- 
mercial relations  between  Great  Britain  and  the  United  States 
is  mar'd  by  Games. 

It  is  Commerce,  after,  all,  which  will  keep  the  two  countries 
friendly  to'ards  each  other  rather  than'  statesmen. 

I  look  at  your  last  Parliament,  and  I  can't  see  that  a  single 
speech  was  encored  during  the  entire  session. 

Look  at  Congress  —  but  no,  I'd  rather  not  look  at  Congress. 

Entertainin  this  great  regard  for  Commerce  "  whose  sales 
whiten  every  sea,"  as  everybody  happily  observes  every  chance 
he  gets,  I  learn  with  disgust  and  surprise  that  a  British  sul>j<H-k 


IS  INTRODUCED  AT  THE    CLUB.  241 

bo't  a  Barril  of  Apple  Sass  in  America  recently,  and  when  he 
arrove  home  he  found  under  a  few  deloosiv  layers  of  sass 
nothin  but  sawdust.  I  should  have  instantly  gone  into  the 
City  and  called  a  meetin  of  the  leadin  commercial  men  to  con- 
dem  and  repudiate,  as  a  American,  this  gross  frawd,  if  I  hadn't 
learned  at  the  same  time  that  the  draft  given  by  the  British 
subjeck  in  payment  for  this  frawdylent  sass  was  drawd  onto  a 
Bankin  House  in  London  which  doesn't  have  a  existence,  but 
far  otherwise,  and  never  did. 

There  is  those  who  larf  at  these  things,  but  to  me  they  merit 
rebooks  and  frowns. 

"With  the  exception  of  my  Uncle  Wilyim  —  who,  as  I've  be- 
fore stated,  is  a  uncle  by  marrige  only,  who  is  a  low  cuss  and 
filled  his  coat  pockets  with  pies  and  biled  eggs  at  his  weddin 
breakfast,  given  to  him  by  my  father,  and  made  the  clergyman  as 
united  him  a  present  of  my  father's  new  overcoat,  and  when  my 
father  on  discoverin  it  got  in  a  rage  and  denounced  him, 
Uncle  Wilyim  said  the  old  man  (meanin  my  parent)  hadn't 
any  idee  of  first-class  Humer  !  —  with  the  exception  of  this 
wretched  Uncle  the  escutchin  of  my  fam'ly  has  never  been 
stained  by  Games.  The  little  harmless  deceptions  I  resort  to 
in  my  perfeshion  I  do  not  call  Games.  They  are  sacrifisses 
to  Art. 

I  come  of  a  very  clever  fam'ly. 

The  Wards  is  a  very  clever  fam'Jy,  indeed. 

I  believe  we  are  descendid  from  the  Puritins,  who  nobly  fled 
from  a  land  of  despitism  to  a  land  of  freedim,  where  they  could 
not  only  enjoy  their  own  religion,  but  prevent  everybody  else 
from  enjoy  in  his. 

As  I  said  before,  we  are  a  very  cleuer  fam'ly. 

I  was  strolling  up  Regent  Street  the  other  day,  thinkin  what 
a  clever  fam'ly  I  come  of,  and  looking  at  the  gay  shop-winders. 
I've  got  some  new  close  since  you  last  saw  me.  I  saw  them 
others  wouldn't  do.  They  carrid  the  observer  too  far  back  into 
the  dim  vister  of  the  past,  and  I  gave  'em  to  a  Orfun  Asylum. 
The  close  I  wear  now  I  bo't  of  Mr.  Moses,  in  the  Commercial 
11 


242  IS  INTRODUCED  AT  THE  CLUB. 

« 

Road.  They  was  expressly  made,  Mr.  Moses  inforemd  me, 
for  a  nobleman,  but  as  they  fitted  him  too  muchly,  partic'ly 
the  trows'rs  (which  is  blue,  with  large  red  and  white  checks) 
he  had  said,  "  My"  dear  feller,  make  me  some  more,  only  mind 
—  be  sure  you  sell  these  to  some  genteel  old  feller." 

I  like  to  saunter  thro'  Regent  Street.  The  shops  are  pretty, 
and  it  does  the  old  man's  hart  good  to  see  the  troops  of  fine 
healthy  girls  which  one  may  always  see  there  at  certain  hours 
in  the  afternoon,  who  don't  spile  their  beauty  by  devourin 
cakes  and  sugar  things,  as  too  many  of  the  American  and 
French  lasses  do.  It's  a  mistake  about  everybody  being  out 
of  town,  I  guess.  Regent  Street  is  full.  I'm  here ;  and  as  I 
said  before,  I  come  of  a  very  clever  fain'ly. 

As  I  was  walkin  along,  amoosin  myself  by  stickin  my  penkife 
into  the  calves  of  the  footmen  who  stood  waitin  by  the  swell- 
coaches  (not  one  of  whom  howled  with  angwish),  I  was  accosted 
by  a  man  of  about  thirty-five  sumrners,  who  said,  "  I  have  seen 
that  face  somewheres  afore  !  " 

He  was  a  little  shabby  in  his  vveariii  apparil.  His  coat  was 
one  of  those  black,  shiny  garments,  which  you  can  always  tell 
have  been  burnished  by  adversity;  but  he  was  very  gentle- 
manly. 

"  Was  it  in  the  Crimea,  comrade  ?  Yes,  it  was.  It  was  at 
the  stormin  of  Sebastopol,  where  I  had  a  narrow  escape  from 
death,  that  we  met. 

I  said,  "  No,  I  wasn't  at  Sebastopol ;  I  escaped  a  fatal  wound 
by  not  bein  there.  It  was  a  healthy  old  fortress,"  I  added. 

"  It  was.     But  it  fell.     It  came  down  with  a  crash." 

"  And  plucky  boys  they  was  who  brought  her  down,"  I 
added  ;  "  and  hurrah  for  'em !  " 

The  man  graspt  me  warmly  by  the  hand,  and  said  he  had 
been  in  America,  Upper  Canada,  Africa,  Asia  Minor,  and 
other  towns,  and  he'd  never  met  a  man  he  liked  as  much  ;•* 
he  did  me.  "Let  us,"  he  added,  "let  us  to  the  shrine  of 
Bachus !  "  And  he  dragged  me  into  a  public  house.  I  was 


IS  INTRODUCED  AT  THE  CLUB.  243 

determined  to  pay,  so  I  said,  "  Mr.  Bachus,  giv  this  gen'l'man 
what  he  calls  for." 

We  conversed  there  in  a  very  pleasant  manner  till  my  din- 
ner-time arrove,  when  the  agree' ble  gentleman  insisted  that  I 
should  dine  with  him.  "  We'll  have  a  banquet,  Sir,  fit  for  the 
gods !  " 

I  told  him  good  plain  vittles  would  soot  me.  If  the  gods 
wanted  to  have  the  dispepsy,  they  was  welcome  to  it. 

We  had  soop  and  fish,  and  a  hot  jint,  and  growsis,  and  wines 
of  rare  and  costly  vintige.  We  had  ices,  and  we  had  froots 
from  Greenland's  icy  mountins  and  Injy's  coral  strands ;  and 
when  the  sumptoous  reparst  was  over,  the  agree'ble  man  said 
he'd  unfortnitly  left  his  pocket-book  at  home  on  the  marble 
centre-table.  "  But,  by  Jove !  "  he  said,  "  it  was  a  feast  fit  for 
the  gods!" 

I  said,  "  Oh,  never  mind,"  and  drew  out  my  puss  ;  tho'  I 
in'ardly  wished  the  gods,  as  the  dinner  was  fit  for  'em,  was 
there  to  pay  for  it. 

I  come  of  a  very  clever  fam'ly. 

The  agree'ble  gentleman  then  said,  "  Now,  I  will  show  you 
our  Club.  It  dates  back  to  the  time  of  William  the  Con- 
queror." 

"  Did  Bill  belong  to  it  ?  "  I  inquired. 

«  He  did." 

"Wall,"  I  said,  "if  Billy  was  one  of  'em,  I  need  no  other 
endorsement  as  to  its  respectfulness,  and  I'll  go  with  you,  my 
gay  trooper  boy  !  "  And  we.  went  off  arm-in-arm. 

On  the  way  the  agree'ble  man  told  me  that  the  Club  was 
called  the  Sloshers.  He  said  I  would  notice  that  none  of  'em 
appeared  in  evenin  dress.  He  said  it  was  agin  the  rools  of 
the  club.  In  fack,  if  any  member  appeared  there  in  evenin 
dress  he'd  be  instantly  expeld.  "  And  yit,"  he  added,  "  there's 
geneyus  there,  and  lorfty  emotions,  and  mtelleck.  You'll  be 
surprised  at  the  quantities  of  intelleck  you'll  see  there." 

We  reached  the  Sloshers  in  due  time,  and  I  must  say  they 


244:  18  INTRODUCED  AT  THE  CLUB. 

was  a  shaky-looking  lot,  and  the  public  house  where  they  con- 
vened was  certingly  none  of  the  best. 

The  Sloshers  crowded  round  me,  and  said  I  was  welcome. 
""What  a  beautiful  brest-pin  you've  got,"  said  one  of  'em. 
"  Permit  me,"  and  he  took  it  out  of  my  neckercher.  "  Isn't 
it  luvly,"  he  said,  parsin  it  to  another,  who  passed  it  to  an- 
other. It  was  given  me  by  my  Aunt,  on  my  promisin  her  I'd 
never  swear  profanely;  and  I  never  have,  except  on  very 
special  occasions.  I  see  that  beautiful  boosum  pin  a  parsin 
from  one  Slosher  to  another,  and  I'm  reminded  of  them  sad 
words  of  the  poit,  "  parsin  away !  parsin  away !  "  I  never 
saw  it  no  more.  Then  in  comes  a  athletic  female,  who  no 
sooner  sees  me  than  she  utters  a  wild  yell,  and  cries : 

"  At  larst !  at  larst !     My  Wilyim,  from  the  seas !  " 

I  said,  "  Not  at  all,  Marm.  Not  on  no  account.  I  have 
heard  the  boatswain  pipe  to  quarters  —  but  a  voice  in  my  heart 
didn't  whisper  Seu-zan !  I've  belayed  the  marlin-spikes  on 
the  upper  jibpoop,  but  Seu-zan's  eye  wasn't  on  me,  much. 
Young  woman,  I  am  not  you're  Saler  boy.  Far  different." 

"  Oh  yes,  you  are  !  "  she  howled,  seizin  me  round  the  neck. 
6 ( Oh,  how  I've  lookt  forwards  to  this  meetin  !  " 

"  And  you'll  presently,"  I  said,  t{  have  a  opportunity  of 
lookin  backwards  to  it,  because  I'm  on  the  point  of  leavin  this 
institution." 

I  will  here  observe  that  I  come  of  a  very  clever  family.  A 
very  clever  fam'ly,  indeed. 

"  Where,"  I  cried,  as  I  struggled  in  vain  to  release  myself 
from  the  eccentric  female's  claws,  a  where  is  the  Capting  —  the 
man  who  was  into  the  Crimea,  amidst  the  cannon's  thunder  ? 
I  want  him." 

He  came  forward,  and  cried,  "  "What  do  I  see  ?  Me  Sister  ! 
me  sweet  Adulaide !  and  in  teers !  Willin !  "  he  screamed, 
"  and  you're  the  serpent  I  took  to  my  boosum,  and  borrowed 
money  of,  and  went  round  with,  and  was  cheerful  with,  are 
you  ?  —  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself." 

Somehow  my  coat  was  jerked  off,  the  brest-pocket  of  which 


Young  woman,  Pm  not  your  Saler  boy.      Far  different." — 
See  page  244. 


THE  TOWER  OF  LONDON.  245 

contained  my  pocket-book,  and  it  parsed  away  like  the  brest- 
pin.     Then  they  sorter  quietly  hustled  me  into  the  street. 

It  was  about  12  at  night  when  I  reached  the  Greenlion. 

"  Ha  !  ha !  you  sly  old  rascal,  you've  been  up  to  larks !  " 
said  the  lan'lord,  larfin  loudly,  and  digging  his  fist  into  my 
ribs. 

I  said,  "  Bigsby,  if  you  do  that  agin,  I  shall  hit  you  !  Much 
as  I  respect  you  and  your  excellent  fam'ly,  I  shall  disfigger 
your  beneverlent  countenance  for  life  !  " 

"\Vhat  has  ruffled  your  spirits,  friend  ?  "  said  the  lan'lord. 

"  My  spirits  has  been  ruffled,"  I  ansered  in  a  bittur  voice, 
"  by  a  viper  who  was  into  the  Crimea.  What  good  was  it,"  I 
cried,  "  for  Sebastopol  to  fall  down  without  enwelopin  in  its 
ruins  that  viper?" 

I  then  went  to  bed.     I  come  of  a  very  clever  fam'ly. 

ARTEMUS  WARD. 


VI. 


THE    TOWER    OF   LONDON. 

MR.  PUNCH,  MY  DEAR  SIR,  —  1  skurcely  need  inform  you 
that  your  excellent  Tower  is  very  pop'lar  with  peple  from  the 
agricultooral  districks,  and  it  was  chiefly  them  class  which  I 
found  waitin  at  the  gates  the  other  mornin. 

I  saw  at  once  that  the  Tower  was  established  on  a  firm  basis. 
In  the  entire  history  of  firm  basisis  I  don't  find  a  basis  more 
firmer  than  this  one. 

1  'You  have  no  Tower  in  America?"  said  a  man  in  the 
crowd,  who  had  somehow  detected  my  denomination. 

"Alars!  no,"  I  ansered;  "we  boste  of  our  enterprise  and 
improovements,  and  yit  we  are  devoid  of  a  Tower.  America, 
oh  my  onhappy  country !  thou  hast  not  got  no  Tower !  It's  a 
sweet  Boon." 


246 


THE  TOWER  OF  LONDON. 


The  gates  was  opened  after  awhile,  and  we  all  purchist  tickets, 
and  went  into  a  waitin-room. 

"  My  frens,"  said  a  pale-faced  little  man,  in  black  close, 
"  this  is  a  sad  day." 

"  Inasmuch  as  to  how  ?  "  I  said. 

"  I  mean  it  is  sad  to  think  that  so  many  peple  have  been 
killed  within  these  gloomy  walls.  My  frens,  let  us  drop  a 
tear  ! " 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  you  must  excuse  me.  Others  may  drop  one 
if  they  feel  like  it ;  but  as  for  me,  I  decline.  The  early  man- 
agers of  this  institootion  were  a  bad  lot,  and  their  crimes  were 
trooly  orful ;  but  I  can't  sob  for  those  who  died  four  or  five 
hundred  years  ago.  If  they  was  my  own  relations  I  couldn't. 
It's  absurd  to  shed  sobs  over  things  which  occurd  durin  the 
rain  of  Henry  the  Three.  Let  us  be  cheerful,"  I  continnerd 
f(  Look  at  the  festiv  Warders,  in  their  red  flannil  jackets. 
They  are  cheerful,  and  why  should  it  not  be  thusly  with  us  ?  " 

A  Warder  now  took  us  in  charge,  and  showed  us  the  Trater's 
Gate,  the  armers,  and  things.  The  Trater's  Gate  is  wide  enuff 
to  admit  about  twenty  trater's  abrest,  I  should  jedge;  but 
beyond  this,  I.  couldn't  see  that  it  was  superior  to  gates  in 
gen'ral. 

Traters,  I  will  here  remark,  are  a  onfortnit  class  of  peple. 
If  they  wasn't,  they  wouldn't  be  traters.  They  conspire  to 
bust  up  a  country  —  they  fail,  and  they're  traters.  They  bust 
her,  and  they  become  statesmen  and  heroes. 

Take  the  case  of  Gloster,  afterwards  Old  Dick  the  Three, 
who  may  be  seen  at  the  Tower,  on  horseback,  in  a  heavy  tin 
overcoat  —  take  Mr.  Gloster's  case.  Mr.  G.  was  a  conspirater 
of  the  basist  dye,  and  if  he'd  failed,  he  would  have  been  hung 
on  a  sour  apple  tree.  But  Mr.  G.  succeeded,  and  became 
great.  He  was  slewd  by  Col.  Richmond,  but  he  lives  in  liistry, 
and  his  equestrian  figger  may  be  seen  daily  for  a  sixpence,  in 
conjunction  with  other  em'nent  persons,  and  no  extra  charge 
for  the  Warder's  able  and  bootiful  lectur. 

There's  oiae  king  in  this  room  who  is  mounted  onto  a  foamin 


THE  TOWER  OF  LONDON.  247 

steed,  his  riglit  hand  graspin  a  barber's  pole.  I  didn't  learn 
his  name. 

The  room  where  the  daggers  and  pistils  and  other  weppins 
is  kept  is  interestin.  Among  this  collection  of  choice  cutlery 
I  notist  the  bow  and  arrer  which  those  hot-heded  old  chaps 
used  to  conduct  battles  with.  It  is  quite  like  the  bow  and 
arrer  used  at  this  day  by  certin  tribes  of  American  Injuns, 
and  they  shoot  'em  oft'  with  such  a  excellent  precision  that  I 
almost  sigh'd  to  be  a  Injun,  when  I  was  in  the  Rocky  Mountin 
regin.  They  are  a  pleasant  lot  them  Injuns.  Mr.  Cooper  and 
Dr.  Catlin  have  told  us  of  the  red  man's  wonerful  eloquence, 
and  I  found  it  so.  Our  party  was  stopt  on  the  plains  of  Utah 
by  a  band  of  Shoshones,  whose  chief  said,  "  Brothers  !  the 
pale-face  is  welcome.  Brothers !  the  sun  is  sinkin  in  the  West, 
and  Wa-na-bucky-she  will  soon  cease  speakin.  Brothers !  the 
poor  red  man  belongs  to  a  race  which  is  fast  becomin  extink." 
He  then  whooped  in  a  shrill  manner,  stole  all  our  blankets  and 
whiskey,  and  fled  to  the  primeval  forest  to  conceal  his  emo- 
tions. 

I  will  remark  here,  while  on  the  subjeck  of  Injuns,  that 
they  are  in  the  main  a  very  shaky  set,  with  even  less  sense 
than  the  Fenians,  and  when  I  hear  philanthropists  bewailin. 
the  fack  that  every  year  "  carries  the  noble  red  man  nearer  the 
settin  sun,"  I  simply  have  to  say  I'm  glad  of  it,  tho'  it  is 
rough  on  the  settin  sun.  They  call  you  by  the  sweet  name  of 
Brother  one  minit,  and  the  next  they  scalp  you  with  their 
Thomashawks.  But  I  wander.  Let  us  return  to  the  Tower. 

At  one  end  of  the  room  where  the  weppins  is  kept,  is  a  wax 
figger  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  mounted  on  a  fiery  stuffed  hoss, 
whose  glass  eye  flashes  with  pride,  and  whose  red  inorocker 
nostril  dilates  hawtily,  as  if  conscious  of  the  royal  burden  he 
bears.  I  have  associated  Elizabeth  with  the  Spanish  Annady. 
She's  mixed  up  with  it  at  the  Surry  Theatre,  where  Troo  to 
the  Core  is  bein  acted,  and  in  which  a  full  bally  core  is  intro- 
jooced  on  board  the  Spanish  Admiral's  ship,  givin  the  audiens 
the  idee. that  he  intends  openin  a  moosic-hall  in-  Plymouth  the 


248  THE  TOWER  OF  LONDON. 

moment  he  conkers  that  town.  But  a  very  interesting  dram- 
xner  is  Troo  to  the  Core,  notwitstaiidin  the  eccentric  conduck 
of  the  Spanish  Admiral ;  and  very  nice  it  is  in  Queen  Elizabeth 
to  make  Martin  Truegold  a  baronet. 

The  Warder  shows  us  some  instrooments  of  tortur,  such  as 
thumbscrews,  throat-collars,  etc.,  statin  that  these  was  conkerd 
from  the  Spanish  Armady,  and  addin  what  a  crooil  peple  the 
Spaniards  was  in  them  days  —  which  elissited  from  a  bright- 
eyed  little  girl  of  about  twelve  summers  the  remark  that  she 
tho't  it  was  rich  to  talk  about  the  crooilty  of  the  Spaniards 
usin  thumb-screws,  when  we  was  in  a  Tower  where  so  many 
poor  peple's  beads  had  been  cut  off.  This  made  the  Warder 
stammer  and  turn  red. 

I  was  so  pleased  with  the  little  girl's  brightness  that  I  could 
have  kissed  the  dear  child,  and  I  would  if  she'd  been  six  years 
older. 

I  think  my  companions  intended  makin  a  day  of  it,  for  they. 
all  had  sandwiches,  sassiges,  etc.  The  sad-lookin  man,  who 
had  wanted  us  to  drop  a  tear  afore  we  started  to  go  round, 
fling'd  such  quantities  of  sassige  into  his  mouth,  that  I  ex- 
pected to  see  him  choke  hisself  to  death.  He  said  to  me,  in  the 
Beauchamp  Tower,  where  the  poor  prisoners  writ  their  on- 
happy  names  on  the  cold  walls,  (( This  is  a  sad  sight." 

"  It  is,  indeed,"  I  anserd.  "  You're  black  in  the  face.  You 
shouldn't  eat  sassige  in  public  without  some  rehearsals  before- 
hand. You  manage  it  orkwardly." 

<c  No,"  he  said,  "  I  mean  this  sad  room." 

Indeed,  he  was  quite  right.  Tho'  so  long  ago  all  these  drefful 
things  happened,  I  was  very  glad  to  git  away  from  this  gloomy 
room,  and  go  where  the  rich  and  sparklin  Crown  Jewils  is  kept. 
I  was  so  pleased  with  the  Queen's  Crown,  that  it  occurd  to  me 
what  a  agree'ble  surprise  it  would  be  to  send  a  sim'lar  one 
home  to  my  wife ;  and  I  asked  the  Warder  what  was  the  vally 
of  a  good,  well-constructed  Crown  like  that.  He  told  me,  but 
on  cypherin  up  with  a  pencil  the  amount  of  funs  I  have  in  the 


SCIENCE  AND  NATURAL  HISTORY.  249 

Jint  Stock  Bank,  I  conclooded  I'd  send  her  a  genteel  silver 
watch  instid. 

And  so  I  left  the  Tower.  It  is  a  solid  and  commandin 
edifis,  but  I  deny  that  it  is  cheerful.  I  bid  it  adoo  without  a 
pang. 

I  was  droven  to  my  hotel  by  the  most  inelancholly  driver  of 
a  four-wheeler  that  I  ever  saw.  He  heaved  a  deep  sigh  as  I 
gave  him  two  shillings.  "  I'll  give  you  six  J.'s  more,"  I  said, 
"  if  it  hurts  you  so." 

"  It  isn't  that,"  he  said,  with  a  hart-rendin  groan,  "  it's  only 
a  way  I  have.  My  mind's  upset  to-day.  I  at  one  time  tho't 
I'd  drive  you  into  the  Thames.  I've  been  readin  all  the  daily 
papers  to  try  and  understand  about  Governor  Ayre,  and  my 
mind  is  totterin.  It's  really  wonderful  I  didn't  drive  you  into 
the  Thames." 

I  asked  the  onhappy  man  what  his  number  was,  so  I  could 
redily  find  him  in  case  I  should  want  him  agin,  and  bad  him 
good-bye.  And  then  I  tho't  what  a  frollicksome  day  I'd  made 
of  it. 

Respectably,  <fec. 

ARTEMUS  WARD. 


VII. 

SCIENCE   AND   NATURAL   HISTORY. 

MR.  PUNCH,  MY  DEAR  SIR,  —  I  was  a  little  disapinted  in  not 
receivin  a  invitation  to  jine  in  the  meetins  of  the  Social  Science 
Congress. 

I  don't  exackly  see  how  they  go  on  without  me. 

I  hope  it  wasn't  the  intentions  of  the  Sciencers  to  exclood 
me  from  their  delibrations. 

Let  it  pars.     I  do  not  repine.     Let  us  remember  Homer. 
Twenty  cities  claim  Homer  dead,  thro'  which  the   livin  Mr. 
Homer  couldn't  have  got  trusted  for  a  sandwich  and  a  glass  of 
bitter  beer,  or  words  to  that  effeck. 
11* 


250  SCIENCE  AND  NATURAL  HISTORY. 

But  perhaps  it  was  a  oversight.  Certinly  I  have  been  lioss- 
pitably  rec'd  in  this  country.  Hospitality  has  been  pored  all 
over  me.  At  Liverpool  I  was  asked  to  walk  all  over  the  docks, 
which  are  nine  miles  long;  and  I  don't  remember  a  instance 
since  my  'rival  in  London  of  my  gettin  into  a  cab  without  a 
Briton  comin  and  peiiitely  shuttin  the  door  for  me,  and  then 
extendin  his  open  hand  to'ards  me,  in  the  most  frenly  manner 
possible.  Does  he  not,  by  this  simple  yit  tuchin  gesture, 
welcum  me  to  England  ?  Doesn't  he  ?  Oh  yes  —  I  guess  he 
doesn't  he.  And  it's  quite  right  among  two  great  countries 
which  speak  the  same  langwddge,  except  as  regards  H's.  And 
I've  been  allowed  to  walk  round  all  the  streets.  Even  at 
Buckinham  Pallis,  I  told  a  guard  I  wanted  to  walk  round  there, 
and  he  said  I  could  walk  round  there.  I  ascertained  subse- 
quent that  he  referd  to  the  sidewalk  instid  of  the  Pallis  —  but 
I  couldn't  doubt  his  hosspital  feelins. 

I  prepared  a  Essy  on  Animals  to  read  before  the  Social 
Science  meetins.  It  is  a  subjeck  I  may  troothfully  say  I  have 
successfully  wrastled  with.  I  tackled  it  when  only  nineteen 
years  old.  At  that  tender  age  I  writ  a  Essy  for  a  lit'ry  Insti- 
toot  entitled,  "  Is  Cats  to  be  Trusted  ?  "  Of  the  merits  of  that 
Essy  it  doesn't  becum  me  to  speak,  but  I  may  be  excoos'd  for 
mentionin  that  the  Institoot  parsed  a  resolution  that  "  whether 
we  look  upon  the  length  of  this  Essy,  or  the  manner  in  which 
it  is  written,  we  feel  that  we  will  not  express  any  opinion  of 
it,  and  we  hope  it  will  be  read  in  other  towns." 

Of  course  the  Essy  I  writ  for  the  Social  Science  Society  is  a 
more  finisheder  production  than  the  one  on  Cats,  which  was 
wroten  when  my  mind  was  crood,  and  afore  I  had  masterd  a 
graceful  and  ellygant  stile  of  composition.  I  could  not  even 
punctooate  my  sentences  proper  at  that  time,  and  I  observe  with 
pane,  on  lookin  over  this  effort  of  my  yooth,  that  its  beauty  is 
in  one  or  two  instances  mar'd  by  ingrammaticisms.  This  was 
unexcusable,  and  I'm  surprised  I  did  it.  A  writer  who  can't 
write  in  a  grammerly  manner  better  shut  up  shop. 

You  shall  hear  this  Essy  on  Animals.     Some  day  when  you 


SCIENCE  AND  NATURAL  HISTORY.  251 

Lave  four  hours  to  spare,  I'll  read  it  to  yon.  I  think  you'll 
enjoy  it.  Or,  what  will  be  much  better,  if  I  may  suggest  — 
omit  all  picturs  in  next  week's  Punch,  and  do  not  let  your 
contributors  write  enything  whatever  (let  them  have  a  holiday; 
they  can  go  to  the  British  Mooseum ;)  and  publish  my  Essy 
intire.  It  will  fill  all  your  collumes  full,  and  create  comment. 
Does  this  proposition  strike  yon  ?  Is  it  a  go  ? 

In  case  I  had  read  the  Essy  to  the  Social  Sciencers,  I  had 
intended  it  should  be  the  closin  attraction.  I  had  intended 
it  should  finish  the  proceedins.  I  think  it  would  have  finished 
them.  I  understand  animals  better  than  any  other  class  of 
human  creatures.  I  have  a  very  animal  mind,  and  I've  been 
identified  with  'em  doorin  my  entire  perfessional  career  as  a 
showman,  more  especial  bears,  wolves,  leopards  and  ser- 
punts. 

The  leopard  is  as  lively  a  animal  as  I  ever  came  into  con- 
tack  with.  It  is  troo  he  cannot  change  his  spots,  but  you  can 
change  'em  for  him  with  a  paint-brush,  as  I  once  did  in  the  case 
of  a  leopard  who  wasn't  nat'rally  spptted  in  a  attractive  manner. 
In  exhibitin  him  I  used  to  stir  him  up  in  his  cage  with  a  pro- 
tracted pole,  and  for  the  purpuss  of  makin  him  yell  and  kick 
up  in  a  leopardy  manner,  I  used  to  casionally  whack  him  over 
the  head.  This  would  make  the  children  inside  the  booth 
scream  with  fright,  which  would  make  fathers  of  families  out- 
side the  booth  very  anxious  to  come  in  —  because  there  is  a 
large  class  of  parents  who  have  a  uncontrollable  passion  for 
takin  their  children  to  places  where  they  will  stand  a  chance 
of  being  frightened  to  death. 

One  day  I  whacked  this  leopard  more  than  ushil,  which 
elissited  a  remonstrance  from  a  tall  gentleman  in  spectacles, 
who  said,  l(  My  good  man,  do  not  beat  the  poor  caged  animal. 
Rather  fondle  him." 

"  I'll  fondle  him  with  a  club,"  I  anserd,  hitting  him  another 
whack. 

"  I  prithy  desist,"  said  the  gentleman ;  f<  stand  aside,  and  see 
the  effeck  of  kindness.  I  understand  the  idiosyncracies  of  these 


252  SCIENCE  AND  NATURAL  HISTORY. 

creeturs  better  than  you  do."  With  that  he  went  up  to  tlio 
cage,  and  thrustin  his  face  in  between  the  iron  bars,  he  said, 
soothinly,  "  Come  hither,  pretty  creetur."  The  pretty  creetur 
come-hithered  rayther  speedy,  and  seized  the  gentleman  by  the 
whiskers,  which  he  tore  off  about  enuff  to  stuff  a  small  cushion 
with. 

He  said, f(  You  vagabone,  I'll  have  you  indicted  for  exhibitin 
dangerous  and  immoral  animals." 

I  replied,  "  Gentle  Sir,  there  isn't  a  animal  here  that  hasn't 
a  beautiful  moral,  but  you  mustn't  fondle  'em.  You  mustn't 
meddle  with  their  idiotsyncracies." 

The  gentleman  was  a  dramatic  cricket,  and  he  wrote  a  article 
for  a  paper,  in  which  he  said  my  entertainment  was  a  decided 
failure. 

As  regards  Bears,  you  can  teach  'em  to  do  interestin  things, 
but  they're  onreliable.  I  had  a  very  large  grizzly  bear  once, 
who  would  dance,  and  larf,  and  lay  down,  and  bow  his  head  in 
grief,  and  give  a  mournful  wale,  etsetry.  But  he  often  annoyed 
me.  It  will  be  remembered  that  on  the  occasion  of  the  first 
battle  of  Bull  Hun,  it  suddenly  occurd  to  the  Fed'ral  soldiers 
hat  they  had  business  in  Washington  which  ought  not  to  be 
neglected,  and  they  all  started  for  that  beautiful  and  romantic 
city,  maintainin.  a  rate  of  speed  durin  the  entire  distance  that 
would  have  done  credit  to  the  celebrated  French  steed  Gladia- 
teur.  Very  nat'rally  our  Gov'rnent  was  deeply  grieved  at  this 
defeat ;  and  I  said  to  my  Bear,  shortly  after,  as  I  was  giviii  a 
exhibition  in  Ohio  —  I  said,  "  Brewin,  are  you  not  sorry  the 
National  arms  has  sustained  a  defeat  ?  "  His  business  was  to 
wale  dismal,  and  bow  his  dead  down,  the  band  (a  barrel  orgin 
and  a  wiolin)  playing  slow  and  melancholly  moosic.  What  did 
the  grizzly  old  cuss  do,  however,  but  commence  darncin  and 
larfin  in  the  most  joyous  manner.  I  had  a  narrer  escape  from 
being  imprisoned  for  disloyalty.  I  will  relate  another  incident 
in  the  career  of  this  retchid  Bear.  I  used  to  present  what  I 
called  in  the  bills  a  Beautiful  living  Pictur  —  showing  the 
Bear's  fondness  for  his  Master :  in  which  I'd  lay  down  on  a 


Natural  History — Sudden  and  unexpected  Playfulness  of  the 
Bear — See  page  252. 


SCIENCE  AND  NATURAL  HISTORY.  253 

piece  of  carpeting,  and  the  Bear  would  come  and  lay  down 
beside  me,  restin  his  right  paw  on  my  breast,  the  Band  playing 
" Home,  Sweet  Home"  very  soft  and  slow.  Altho'  I  say  it,  it 
was  a  tnchin  thing  to  see.  I've  seen  Tax-Collectors  weep  over 
that  performance. 

Well,  one  day  I  said,  "  Ladies  and  Gentlemen,  we  will  show 
you  the  Bear's  fondness  for  his  master,"  and  I  went  and  laid 
down.  I  tho't  I  observed  a  pecooliar  expression  into  his  eyes, 
as  he  rolled  clumsily  to'ards  me,  but  I  didn't  dream  of  the 
scene  which  follerd.  He  laid  down,  and  put  his  paw  on  niy 
breast.  "Affection  of  the  bear  for  his  Master,"  I  repeated. 
f{  You  see  the  Monarch  of  the  Western  Wilds  in  a  subjugated 
state.  Fierce  as  these  animals  naturally  are,  we  now  see  that 
they  have  hearts,  and  can  love.  This  Bear,  the  largest  in  the 
world,  and  measurin  seventeen  feet  round  the  body,  loves  me 
as  a  mer-ther  loves  her  che-ild ! "  But  what  was  my  horror 
when  the  grizzly  and  infamus  Bear  threw  his  other  paw  under 
me,  and  riz  with  me  to  his  feet.  Then  claspin  me  in  a  close 
embrace  he  waltzed  up  and  down  the  platform  in  a  frightful 
manner,  I  yellin  with  fear  and  anguish.  To  make  matters 
wuss,  a  low  scurrilus  young  man  in  the  audiens  hollered  out : 
"  Playfulness  of  the  Bear !  Quick  moosic ! "  I  jest  'scaped 
with  my  life.  The  Bear  met  with  a  wiolent  death  the  next 
da}',  by  bein  in  the  way  when  a  hevily  loaded  gun  was  fired  off 
by  one  of  my  men. 

But  you  should  hear  my  Essy  which  I  wrote  for  the  Social 
Science  Meetins.  It  would  have  had  a  movin  effeck  on 
them. 

I  feel  that  I  must  now  conclood. 

I  have  read  Earl  Blight's  speech  at  Leeds,  and  I  hope  we 
shall  now  hear  from  John  Derby.  I  trust  that  not  only  they, 
but  Wm.  E.  Stanley  and  Lord  Gladstone  will  cling  inflexibly 
to  those  great  fundamental  principles,  which  they  understand 
far  better  than  I  do,  and  I  will  add  that  I  do  not  understand 
anything  about  any  of  them  whatever  in  the  least  —  and  let  us 


254: 


A  VISIT  TO  THE  BEITISH  MUSEUM. 


all  be  happy,  and  live  within  our  means,  even  if  we  have  to 
borrer  money  to  do  it  with. 

Very  respectively  yours, 

ARTEMUS  WARD. 


VIII. 


A   VISIT     TO    THE    BRITISH   MUSEUM. 

MR.  PutfCH,  MY  DEAR  SIR, — You  didn't  get  a  instructiv 
article  from  my  pen  last  week  on  account  of  my  nervus  sistiin 
havin  underwent  a  dreffle  shock.  I  got  caught  in  a  brief  shine 
of  sun,  and  it  utterly  upsot  me.  I  was  walkin  in  Regent  Street 
one  day  last  week,  enjoyin  your  rich  black  fog  and  bracing 
rains,  when  all  at  once  the  Sun  bust  out  and  actooally  shone 
for  nearly  half  an  hour  steady.  I  acted  promptly.  I  called 
a  cab  and  told  the  driver  to  run  his  hoss  at  a  friteful :  te  of 
speed  to  my  lodgiiis,  but  it  wasn't  of  no  avale.  I  had  orful 
cramps,  my  appytite  left  me,  and  my  pults  went  down  to  10 
degrees  below  zero.  But  by  careful  nussin  I  shall  no  doubt  re- 
cover speedy,  if  the  present  sparklin  and  exileratin  weather 
continners. 

[All  of  the  foregoin  is  sarcasum.] 

It's  a  sing'lar  fack,  but  I  never  sot  eyes  on  your  excellent 
British  Mooseum  till  the  other  day.  I've  sent  a  great  many 
peple  there,  as  also  to  your  genial  Tower  of  London,  however. 
It  happened  thusly :  When  one  of  my  excellent  countrymen 
jest  arrived  in  London  would  come  and  see  me  and  display  a 
inclination  to  cling  to  me  too  lengthy,  thus  showin  a  respect 
for  me  which  I  feel  I  do  not  deserve,  I  would  sugjest  a  visit  to 
the  Mooseum  and  Tower.  The  Mooseum  would  ockepy  him  a 
day  at  leest,  and  the  Tower  another.  Thus  I've  derived  con- 
siderable peace  and  comfort  from  them  noble  edifisses,  and  I 
hope  they  will  long  continner  to  grace  your  metroplis.  There's 


A  VISIT  TO  THE  DHITISU  MUSEUM.  255 

my  fren  Col.  Larkins,  from  Wisconsin,  who  I  regret  to  say  un- 
derstands the  Jamaica  question,  and  wants  to  talk  with  me 
about  it ;  I  sent  him  to  the  Tower  four  days  ago,  and  he  hasn't 
got  throogh  with  it  yit.  He  likes  it  very  much,  and  he  writes 
me  that  he  can't  never  thank  me  sufficient  for  directin  him  to 
so  interestin  a  bildin.  I  writ  him  not  to  mention  it.  The  Col. 
says  it  is  fortnit  we  live  in  a  intellectooal  age  which  wouldn't 
countenance  such  infamus  things  as  occurd  in  this  Tower.  I'm 
aware  that  it  is  fashin'ble  to  compliment  this  age,  but  I  ain't 
so  clear  that  the  Col.  is  altogether  right.  This  is  a  very  re- 
spectable age,  but  it's  pretty  easily  riled  ;  and  considerin  upon 
how  slight  a  provycation  we  who  live  in  it  go  to  cuttin  each 
other's  throats,  it  may  perhaps  be  doubted  whether  our  intel- 
lecks  is  so  much  massiver  than  our  ancestors'  intellecks  was, 
after  all. 

I  allus  ride  outside  with  the  cabman.  I  am  of  humble  par- 
entage, but  I  have  (if  you  will  permit  me  to  say  so)  the  spirit 
of  the  eagle,  which  chafes  when  shut  up  in  a  four-wheeler,  and 
I  feel  much  eagler  when  I'm  in  the  open  air.  So  on  the  morn- 
in  on  which  I  went  to  the  Mooseum  I  lit  a  pipe,  and  callin  a 
cab,  I  told  the  driver  to  take  me  there  as  quick  as  his  Arabian 
charger  could  go.  The  driver  was  under  the  inflooence  of  beer, 
and  narrerly  escaped  rnnnin  over  a  aged  female  in  the  match 
trade,  whereupon  I  remonstratid  with  him.  I  said,  "  That 
poor  old  woman  may  be  the  only  mother  of  a  young  man  like 
you."  Then  throwing  considerable  pathos  into  my  voice,  I 
said,  "  You  have  a  mother  ?  " 

He  said,  "  You  lie  !  "  I  got  down  and  called  another  cab, 
but  said  iiothin  to  this  driver  about  his  parents. 

The  British  Mooseum  is  a  magnifcent  free  show  for  the  peo- 
ple. It  is  kept  open  for  the  benefit  of  all. 

The  humble  costymonger,  who  traverses  the  busy  streets 
with  a  cart  containin  all  kinds  of  vegetables,  such  as  carrots, 
turnips,  etc.,  and  drawn  by  a  spirited  jacka'ss  —  he  can  go  to 
the  Mooseum  and  reap  benefits  therefrom  as  well  as  the  lord  of 
high  degree. 


256  A   VISIT  TO   THE  BRITISH  MUSEUM. 

"  And  this,"  I  said,  "  is  the  British  Mooseum  !  "  "  These 
noble  walls,"  I  continnerd,  punching  them  with  my  umbreller 
to  see  if  the  masonry  was  all  right  —  but  I  wasn't  allowd  to  fin- 
ish my  enthoosiastic  remarks,  for  a  man  with  a  gold  band  on 
his  hat  said,  in  a  hash  voice,  that  I  must  stop  pokin  the  walls. 
I  told  him  I  would  do  so  by  all  means.  "  You  see,"  I  said, 
taking  hold  of  the  tassel  which  waved  from  the  man's  belt,  and 
drawin  him  close  to  me  in  a  confidential  way,  "  You  see,  I'm 
lookin  round  this  Mooseum,  and  if  I  like  it  I  shall  buy  it." 

Instid  of  larfin  hartily  at  these  remarks,  which  was  made  in 
a  goakin  spirit,  the  man  frowned  darkly  and  walked  away. 

I  first  visited  the  stuffed  animals,  of  which  the  gorillers  in- 
terested me  most.  These  simple-minded  monsters  live  in 
Afriky,  and  are  believed  to  be  human  beins  to  a  slight  extent, 
altho'  they  are  not  allowed  to  vote.  In  this  department  is  one 
or  two  superior  giraffes.  I  never  woulded  I  were  a  bird,  but 
I've  sometimes  wished  I  was  a  giraffe,  on  account  of  the  long 
distance  from  his  mouth  to  his  stummuck.  Hence,  if  he  loved 
beer,  one  mugful  would  give  him  as  much  enjoyment  while  goin 
down  as  forty  mugfuls  would  ordinary  persons.  And  he 
wouldn't  get  intoxicated,  which  is  a  beastly  way  of  amusin 
oneself,  I  must  say.  I  like  a  little  beer  now  and  then,  and 
when  the  teetotallers  inform  us,  as  they  frekently  do,  that  it 
is  vile  stuff,  and  that  even  the  swine  shrink  from  it,  I  say  it 
only  shows  that  the  swine  is  a  ass  who  don't  know  what's  good ; 
but  to  pour  gin  and  brandy  down  one's  throat  as  freely  as 
though  it  were  fresh  milk,  is  the  most  idiotic  way  of  goin'  to  the 
devil  that  I  know  of. 

I  enjoyed  myself  very  much  lookin  at  the  Egyptian  mum- 
my s,  the  Greek  vasis,  etc.,  but  it  occurd  to  me  there  was  ray- 
»  ther  too  many  "  Roman  antiquitys  of  a  uncertin  date."  Now, 
I  like  the  British  Mooseum,  as  I  said  afore,  but  when  I  see  a 
lot  of  erthen  jugs  and  pots  stuck  up  on  shelves,  and  all  "  of  a 
uncertin  date,"  I'm  at  a  loss  to  'zackly  determin  whether  they 
are  a  thousand  years  old  or  was  bought  recent.  I  can  cry  like 
a  child  over  a  jug  one  thousand  years  of  age,  especially  if  it  is 


A  VISIT  TO  THE  BRITISH  MUSEUM.  257 

a  Roman  jug ;  but  a  jug  of  a  uncertin  date  doesn't  overwhelm 
me  v.ith  emotions.  Jugs  and  pots  of  a  uncertin  age  is  doubt- 
less vallyable  property,  but,  like  the  debentures  of  the  London, 
Chatham,  and  Dover  Railway,  a  man  doesn't  want  too  many  of 
them. 

I  was  debarred  out  of  the  great  readin-room.  A  man  told 
me  I  must  apply  by  letter  for  admission,  and  that  I  must  get 
somebody  to  testify  that  I  was  respectable.  I'm  a  little  'fraid 
I  shan't  get  in  there.  Seein  a  elderly  gentleman,  with  a  bene- 
verlent-lookin  face  near  by,  I  venturd  to  ask  him  if  he  would 
certify  that  I  was  respectable.  He  said  he  certainly  would 
not,  but  he  would  put  me  in  charge  of  a  policeman,  if  that 
would  do  me  any  good.  A  thought  struck  me.  l(  I  refer  you 
to  J/r.  Punch?  I  said. 

"Well,"  said  a  man,  who  had  listened  to  my  application, 
"  you  have  done  it  now  !  You  stood  some  chance  before."  I 
will  get  this  infamus  wretch's  name  before  you  go  to  press,  so 
you  can  denounce  him  in  the  present  number  of  your  excellent 
journal. 

The  statute  of  Apollo  is  a  pretty  slick  statute.  A  youDg 
yeoman  seemed  deeply  imprest  with  it.  He  viewd  it  with  si- 
lent admiration.  At  home,  in  the  beautiful  rural  districks 
where  the  daisy  sweetly  blooms,  he  would  be  swearin  in  a  hor- 
rible manner  at  his  bullocks,  and  whacking  'em  over  the  head 
with  a  hayfork;  but  here,  in  the  presence  of  Art,  he  is  a 
changed  bein. 

I  tokl  the  attendant  that  if  the  British  nation  would  stand 
the  expens  of  a  marble  bust  of  myself,  I  would  willingly  sit  to 
some  talented  sculpist.  "  I  feel,"  I  said,  "  that  this  is  a  dooty 
I  owe  to  posterity."  He  said  it  was  hily  prob'l,  but  he  \vas 
inclined  to  think  that  the  British  nation  wouldn't  care  to  en- 
rich the  Mooseum  with  a  bust  of  me,  altho'  he  venturd  to 
think  that  if  I  paid  for  one  myself  it  would  be  accepted  cheer- 
fully by  Madam  Tussaud,  who  would  give  it  a  prom'nent  posi- 
tion in  her  Chamber  of  Horrers.  The  young  man  was  very 
polite,  and  I  thankt  him  kindly. 


258  A  VISIT  TO  THE  BRITISH  MUSEUM. 

After  visitin  the  Refreshment  room  and  partakin  of  half  a 
chicken  "  of  a  uncertin  age,"  like  the  Roman  antiquitys  I  have 
previsly  spoken  of,  I  prepared  to  leave.  As  I  passed  through 
the  animal  room  I  observed  with  pane  that  a  benevolint  person 
was  urgin  the  stufft  elephant  to  accept  a  cold  muffin,  but  I  did 
not  feel  called  on  to  remonstrate  with  him,  any  more  than  I  did 
with  two  young  persons  of  diff'rent  sexes  who  had  retired  be- 
hind the  Rynosserhoss  to  squeeze  each  other's  hands.  In  fack, 
I  rayther  approved  of  the  latter  proceedin,  for  it  carrid  me 
back  to  the  sunny  spring-time  of  my  life.  I'm  in  the  shear 
and  yeller  leaf  now,  but  I  don't  forgit  the  time  when  to 
squeeze  my  Betsy's  hand  sent  a  thrill  through  me  like  follin  off 
the  roof  of  a  two-story  house ;  and  I  never  squozed  that  gentle 
hand  without  wantin  to  do  so  some  more,  and  feelin  that  it  did 
me  good. 

Trooly  yours, 

ARTEMUS  WARD. 


VI. 

ARTEMUS    WARD'S    PANORAMA. 

(ILLUSTRATED   AS    DELIVERED    AT   EGYPTIAN   HALL,    LONDON.) 


PREFATORY  NOTE. 

BY    MELVILLE    D.    LANDON. 

THE  fame  of  Artemus  Ward  culminated  in  his  last  lec- 
tures at  Egyptian  Hall,  Piccadilly,  the  final  one  breaking  off 
abruptly  on  the  evening  of  the  23d  of  January,  1867.  That 
night  the  great  humorist  bade  farewell  to  the  public,  i'.nd  re- 
tired from  the  stage  to  die  !  His  Mormon  lectures  were  im- 
mensely successful  in  England.  His  fame  became  the  talk  of 
journalists,  savans,  and  statesmen.  Every  one  seemed  to  be  af- 
fected differently,  but  every  one  felt  and  acknowledged  his  power. 
"  The  Honorable  Robert  Lowe,"  says  Mr.  E.  P.  KINGSTON, 
Artemus  Ward's  bosom  friend,  "  attended  the  Mormon  lecture 
one  evening,  and  laughed  as  hilariously  as  any  one  in  the  room. 
The  next  evening  Mr.  John  Bright  happened  to  be  present. 
With  the  exception  of  one  or  two  occasional  smiles,  he  listened 
with  grave  attention." 

The  London  Standard,  in  describing  his  first  lecture  in  Lon- 
don, aptly  said,  "  Artemus  dropped  his  jokes  faster  than  the 


260     PREFATORY  NOTE  BY  MEL  VILLE  D.  LANDON. 

meteors  of  last  night  succeeded  each  other  in  the  sky.  And 
there  was  this  resemblance  between  the  flashes  of  his  Immor 
and  the  flights  of  the  meteors,  that  in  each  case  one  looked  for 
jokes  or  meteors,  but  they  always  came  just  in  the  placo  that 
one  least  expected  to  find  them.  Half  the  enjoyment  of  the 
evening  lay,  to  some  of  those  present,  in  listening  to  the  hearty 
cachinnation  of  the  people,  who  only  found  out  the  jokes  some 
two  or  three  minutes  after  they  were  made,  and  who  laughed 
apparently  at  some  grave  statements  of  fact.  Reduced  to 
paper,  the  showman's  jokes  are  certainly  not  brilliant;  almost 
their  whole  effect  lies  in  their  seeming  impromptu  character. 
They  are  carefully  led  up  to,  of  course ;  but  they  are  uttered  as 
if  they  are  mere  afterthoughts  of  which  the  speaker  is  hardly 
sure." 

His  humor  was  so  entirely  fresh  and  unconventional,  that  it 
took  his  hearers  by  surprise,  and  charmed  them.  His  failing 
health  compelled  him  to  abandon  the  lecture  after  about  eight 
or  ten  weeks.  Indeed,  during  that  brief  period  he  was  once  or 
twice  compelled  to  dismiss  his  audieDce.  Frequently  he  sank 
into  a  chair  and  nearly  fainted  from  the  exertion  of  dressing. 
He  exhibited  the  greatest  anxiety  to  be  at  his  post  at  the  ap- 
pointed time,  and  scrupulously  exerted  himself  to  the  utmost 
to  entertain  his  auditors.  It  was  not  because  he  was  sick  that 
tho  public  was  to  be  disappointed,  or  that  their  enjoyment  was 
to  1)3  diminished.  During  the  last  few  weeks  of  his  lecture- 
giving,  he  steadily  abstained  from  accepting  any  of  the  numer- 
ous invitations  he  received.  Had  he  lived  through  the  follow- 
ing London  fashionable  season,  there  is  little  doubt  that  the 
room  at  the  Egyptian  Hall  would  have  been  thronged  nightly. 
The  English  aristocracy  have  a  fine,  delicate  sense  of  humor,  - 
and  the  success,  artistic  and  pecuniary,  of  t(  Artemus  Ward  " 
would  have  rivalled  that  of  the  famous  "  Lord  Dundreary." 
There  were  many  stupid  people  who  did  not  understand  the 
"  fun  "  of  Artemus  Ward's  books.  There  were  many  stupid 
people  who  did  not  understand  the  fun  of  Artemus  Ward's 
lecture  on  the  Mormons.  Highly  respectable  people  —  the 


PREFATORY  NOTE  BY  MELVILLE  D.   LANDON.    261 

pride  of  their  parish  —  when  they  heard  of  a  lecture  "  upon  the 
Mormons,"  expected  to  see  a  solemn  person,  full  of  old  saws 
and  new  statistics,  who  would  denounce  the  sin  of  polygamy, — 
and  rave  without  limit  against  Mormons.  These  uncomfort- 
able Christians  do  not  like  humor.  They  dread  it  as  a  certain 
personage  is  said  to  dread  holy  water,  and  for  the  same  reason 
that  thieves  fear  policemen  —  it  finds  them  out.  When  these 
good  idiots  heard  Artemus  offer,  if  they  did  not  like  the  lec- 
ture in  Piccadilly,  to  give  them  free  tickets  for  the  same  lecture 
in  California,  when  he  next  visited  that  country,  they  turned 
to  each  other  indignantly,  and  said,  "  What  use  are  tickets  for 
California  to  iw  ?  We  are  not  going  to  California.  No  !  we 
ure  too  good,  too  respectable  to  go  so  far  from  home.  The 
man  is  a  fool !  "  One  of  these  vestrymen  complained  to  the 
doorkeeper,  and  denounced  the  lecturer  as  an  impostor  — 
41  and,"  said  the  wealthy  parishioner,  li  as  for  the  panorama,  it 
is  the  worst  painted  thing  I  ever  saw." 

During  the  lecture  Artemus  was  always  as  solemn  as  the 
grave.  Sometimes  he  would  seem  to  forget  his  audience,  and 
stand  for  several  seconds  gazing  intently  at  his  panorama.  Then 
he  would  start  up  and  remark  apologetically,  "  I  am  very  fond 
of  looking  at  my  pictures."  His  dress  was  always  the  same  — 
evening  toilet.  His  manners  were  polished,  and  his  voice  gen-  • 
tie  and  hesitating.  Many  who  had  read  of  the  man  who 
spelled  joke  with  a  "  g,"  looked  for  a  smart  old  man  with  a 
shrewd  cock  eye,  dressed  in  vulgar  velvet  and  gold,  and  they 
were  hardly  prepared  to  see  the  accomplished  gentleman  with 
slim  physique  and  delicate  white  hands. 

The  letters  of  Artemus  Ward  in  Punch  from  the  tomb  of 
Shakspeare  and  the  London  Tower,  had  made  him  famous  in 
England,  and  in  his  audience  were  the  nobility  of  the  realm. 
His  first  lecture  in  London  was  delivered  at  Egyptian  Hall, 
on  Tuesday,  November  13th,  1866.  The  room  used  was  that 
which  had  been  occupied  by  Mr.  Arthur  Sketchley,  adjoining 
the  one  in  which  Mr.  Arthur  Smith  formerly  made  his  appear- 


262 


ARTEMUS  WARD'S  LECTURE. 


ances.     The  stage,  with  the  curtain  down,  had  this  appearance 
while  Artemus  was  delivering  his  prologue : 


Punctually  at  eight  o'clock  he  would  step  hesitatingly  before 
the  audience,  and  rubbing  his  hands  bashfully,  commence  the 
lecture. 


THE 'LECTURE. 

You  are  entirely  welcome,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  to  my  little 
picture-shop. 

I  couldn't  give  you  a  very  clear  idea  of  the  Mormons  —  and 


ARTEHU8  WAK&S  LECTURE.  263 

Utah  —  and  the  Plains  —  and  the  Rocky  Mountains  —  with- 
out opening  a  picture-shop and  therefore  I  open  one. 

I  don't  expect  to  do  great  things  here  —  but  I  have  thought 
that  if  I  could  make  money  enough  to  buy  me  a  passage  to 

New  Zealand  I  should  feel  that  I  had  not  lived  in  vain. 

I  don't  want  to   live  in  vain. I'd   rather 

live  in  Margate  —  or  here.  But  I  wish  when  the 
Egyptians  built  this  hall  they  had  given  it  a  little  more  venti- 
lation. 

If  you  should  be  dissatisfied  with  anything  here  to-night  — 
I  will  admit  you  all  free  in  New  Zealand  —  if  you  will  come  to 
me  there  for  the  orders.  Any  respectable  cannibal  will 
tell  you  where  I  live.  This  shows  that  I  have  a  for- 
giving spirit. 

I  really  don't  care  for  money.  I  only  travel  round  to  see 
the  world  and  to  exhibit  my  clothes.  These  clothes  I 
have  on  were  a  great  success  in  America. 

How  often  do  large  fortunes  ruin  young  men  !  I  should 
like  to  be  ruined,  but  I  can  get  on  very  well  as  I  am. 

I  am  not  an  Artist.  I  don't  paint  myself though  per- 
haps if  I  were  a  middle-aged  single  lady  I  should yet  I  have  a 

passion  for  pictures. 1  have  had  a  great  many  pictures  — 

photographs  — taken  of  myself.  Some  of  them  are  very  pretty 
—  rather  sweet  to  look  at  for  a  short  time  — 
and  as  I  said  before,  I  like  them.  I've  always  loved  pictures. 

I  could  draw  on  wood  at  a  very  tender  age.  When  a  mere 
child  I  once  drew  a  small  cart-load  of  raw  tur- 
nips over  a  wooden  bridge. The  people  of  the 

village  noticed  me.  I  drew  their  attention.  They 
said  1  had  a  future  before  me.  Up  to  that  time  I  had  an  idea 
it  was  behind  me. 

Time  passed  on.  It  always  does,  by  the  way.  You  may 
possibly  have  noticed  that  Time  passes  on. 
It  is  a  kind  of  way  Time  has. 

I  became  a  man.     I  haven't  distinguished  myself  at  all  as 


264  ARTEMUS  WARPS  LECTURE. 

an  artist  —  but  I  have  always  been  more  or  less  mixed  up  with 
Art.  I  have  an  uncle  who  takes  photographs  —  and  I  have 

a     Servant     who takes    anything   he  can  get  his  hands  on. 

When   I   was    in   Rome Koine  in  New  York  State  I 

mean a  distinguished  sculpist  wanted  to   sculp  me.     But 

I  said  "  No."  I  saw  through  the  designing  man.  My  model 
once  in  his  hands  —  he  would  have  flooded  the  market  with 

my  busts and   I  couldn't  stand  it  to  see  everybody  going 

round  with  a  bust  of  me.  Everybody  would  want  one  of 
course  —  and  wherever  I  should  go  I  should  meet  the  educated 
classes  with  my  bust,  taking  it  home  to  their  families.  This 
would  be  more  than  my  modesty  could  stand 
and  I  should  have  to  return  to  America 

where  my  creditors    are. 

I  like  Art.  I  admire  dramatic  Art —  although  I  failed  as  an 
actor. 

It  was  in  my  schoolboy  days  that  I  failed  as  an  actor. 

The  play  was  "  the  Ruins  of  Pompeii." 1  played  the 

Ruins.  It  was  not  a  very  successful  performance  —  but  it 
was  better  than  the  (l Burning  Mountain."  He  was  not 
good.  He  was  a  bad  Vesuvius. 

The  remembrance  often  makes  me  ask  —  "  Where  are  the 
boys  of  my  youth  ?  " I  assure  you  this  is  not  a*  conun- 
drum.   Some  are  amongst  you  here some  in  America 

some  are  in  gaol. 

Hence  arises  a  most  touching  question  —  "  Where  are  the 

girls  of  my  youth ?  "  Some  are  married some  would 

like  to  be. 

Oh  my  Maria  !  Alas  !  she  married  another.  They  frequently 

do.  I  hope  she  is  happy  —  because  I  am.* Some  people 

are  not  happy.  I  have  noticed  that. 

*  ^Because  I  am!  " —  Spoken  with  a  sigh.  It  was  a  joke  which  al- 
ways told.  Artemus  never  failed  to  use  it  in  his  "  Babes  in  the  Wood  " 
lecture,  and  the  "  Sixty  Minutes  in  Africa,"  as  well  as  in  the  Mormon 
story. 


ARTEMUS  WARD'S  LECTURE.  265 

A  gentleman  friend  of  mine  came  to  me  one  day  with  tears  in 
his  eyes.  I  said,  "  Why  these  weeps  ?"  He  said  he  had  a  mort- 
gage on  his  farm  —  and  wanted  to  borrow  £200.  I  lent  him 
the  money  —  and  he  went  away.  Some  time  after  he  returned 
with  more  tears.  He  said  he  must  leave  me  for  ever.  I  ven- 
tured to  remind  him  of  the  £200  he  borrowed.  He  was  much 
cut  up.  I  thought  I  would  not  be  hard  upon  him  —  so  told 
him  I  would  throw  off  one  hundred  pounds.  He  brightened 
—  shook  my  hand  —  and  said  —  "  Old  friend  —  I  won't  allow 

you   to   outdo  me   in   liberality I'll  throw  off  the 

other   hundre d." 

As  a  manager  I  was  always  rather  more  successful  than  as 
an  actor. 

Some  years  ago  I  engaged  a  celebrated  Living  American 
Skeleton  for  a  tour  through  Australia.  He  was  the  thinnest 
man  I  ever  saw.  He  was  a  splendid  skeleton.  He  didn't 

weigh  anything  scarcely and  I  said  to  myself —  the  people 

of  Australia  will  flock  to  see  this  tremendous  curiosity.  It  is 
a  long  voyage  —  as  you  know  —  from  New  York  to  Mel- 
bourne —  and  to  my  utter  surprise  the  skeleton  had  no  sooner 
got  out  to  sea  than  he  commenced  eating  in  the  most  horrible 
manner.  He  had  never  been  on  the  ocean  before  —  and  he 

said  it  agreed  with  him. 1  thought  so  ! I  never  saw  a 

man  eat  so  much  in  my  life.     Beef — mutton  —  pork he 

swallowed  them  all  like  a  shark and  between  meals  he 

was  often  discovered  behind  barrels  eating  hard-boiled  eggs. 
The  result  was  that  when  we  reached  Melbourne  this  infamous 
skeleton  weighed  64  pounds  more  than  I  did ! 

I  thought  I  was  ruined but  I  wasn't.     I  took  him  on 

to  California another  very  long  sea  voyage and  when 

I  got  him  to  San  Francisco  I  exhibited  him  as  a 
Fat  Man. 

This  story  hasn't  anything  to  do  with  my  Entertainment,  I 

know but  one  of  the  principal  features  of  my  Entertainment 

is  that  it  contains  so  many  things  that  don't  have  anything  to  do  with, 
it. 

12 


266  AETEMUS  WARD'S  LECTURE. 

My  Orchestra  is  small but  I  am  sure  it  is  very  good  — 

so  far  as  it  goes .  I  give  my  pianist  ten  pounds  a 
night  —  and  his  washing. 

I  like  Music. 1  can't  sing.  As  a  singist  I  am  not  a 

success.  I  am  saddest  when  I  sing.  So  are  those  who  hear  me. 
They  are  sadder  even  than  I  am. 

The  other  night  some  silver- voiced  young  men  came  under 
my  window  and  sang —  "  Come  where  my  love  lies  dreaming." 
1  didn't  go.  I  didn't  think  it  would  be  cor- 
rect. 

I  found  music  very  soothing  when  I  lay  ill  with  fever  in 

Utah and  I  was  very  ill 1  was  fearfully  wasted. 

My  face  was  hewn  down  to  nothing — and  my  nose  was  so 
sharp  I  didn't  dare  to  stick  it  into  other  people's  business  — 
for  fear  it  would  stay  there  —  and  I  should 
never  get  it  again.  And  on  those  dismal  days  a  Mormon  lady 

she  was  married  —  tho'  not  so  much  so  as  her 

husband  —  he  had  fifteen  other  wives she  used  to  sing  a  ballad 

commencing  "  Sweet  bird  —  do  not  fly  away  !  " and  I  told 

her  I  wouldn't. She  played  the  accordion  divinely  —  ac- 

cordionly  I  praised  her. 

I  met  a  man  in  Oregon  who  hadn't  any  teeth  —  not  a  tooth  in 

his  head yet  that  man  could  play  on  the  bass 

drum  better  than  any  man  I  ever  met. He 

kept  a  hotel.  They  have  queer  hotels  in  Oregon.  I  remember 

one  where  they  gave  me  a  bag  of  oats  for  a  pillow 1  had 

night  mares  of  course.  In  the  morning  the  landlord 

said  —  How  do  you  feel  —  old  hoss  —  hay  ? 1  told  him  I 

felt  my  oats. 

Permit  me  now  to  quietly  state  that  altho'  I  am  here  with 
my  cap  and  bells  I  am  also  here  with  some  serious  descriptions 

of  the  Mormons  —  their  manners  —  their  customs and 

while  the  pictures  I  shall  present  to  your  notice  are  by  no 
means  works  of  art  —  they  are  painted  from  photographs 
actually  taken  on  the  spot and  I  am  sure  I  need  not  in- 


AETEMUS  WARD'S  LECTURE. 


267 


form  any  person  present  who  was  ever  in  the  territory  of  Utah 
that  they  are  as  faithful  as  they  could  possibly  be. 

I  went  to  Great  Salt  Lake  City  by  way  of  California. 

I  went  to  California  on  the  steamer  "  Ariel." 


This  is  the  steamer  "  Ariel." 

Oblige  me  by  calmly  gazing  on  the  steamer  "Ariel"- 


and   when  you   go   to   California   be  sure  and 
go    on  some  other  steamer because  the  Ariel  isn't  a 

very  good  one. 

When  I  reached  the  "  Ariel "  —  at  pier  No.  4  —  New  York 
—  I  found  the  passengers  in  a  state  of  great  confusion  about 
their  things  —  which  were  being  thrown  around  by  the  ship's 

porters  in  a  manner  at  once  damaging  and  idiotic. So  great 

was  the  excitement  —  my  fragile  form  was  smashed  this  way  — 
and  jammed  that  way — till  finally  I  was  shoved  into  a  state- 


268 


ARTEMUS  WARD'S  LECTURE. 


room  which,  was  occupied  by  two  middle-aged  females  —  who 

said,  "  Base  man  —  leave  us— o,  leave  us  I " 1     left    them • 

Oh  — I  left  them! 

We  reach  Acapulco  on  the  coast  of  Mexico  in  due  time. 

Nothing   of  special   interest   occurred   at   Acapulco only 

some  of  the  Mexican  ladies  are  very  beautiful.     They  all  have 

brilliant  black  hair hair  "  black  as  starless  night " i  f 

I    may   quote    from    the    ''Family    Herald."      It 

don't  curl. A  Mexican  lady's  hair  never  curls it  is 

straight  as  an  Indian's.     Some  people's  hair  won't  curl  under 
any  circumstances. My  hair  won't  curl  under  two  shillings.* 


/ik/iy^ 


The  great  thoroughfare  of  the  imperial  city  of  the  Pacific 
Coast. 

*  "  Under  Two  Shillings."  Artemus  always  wore  his  hair  straight 
until  after  his  severe  illness  in  Salt  Lake  City.  So  much  of  it  dropped 
off  during  his  recovery  that  he  became  dissatisfied  with  the  long  meagre 


ARTEMU3  WAItlTS  LECTURE.  269 

The  Chinese  form  a  large  element  in  the  population  of  San 
Francisco  —  and  I  went  to  the  Chinese  Theatre. 

A  Chinese  play  often  lasts  two  months.  Commencing  at  the 
hero's  birth,  it  is  cheerfully  conducted  from  week  to  week  till 
he  is  either  killed  or  married. 

The  night  I  was  there  a  Chinese  comic  vocalist  sang  a 
Chinese  comic  song.  It  took  him  six  weeks  to  finish  it  —  but 
as  my  time  was  limited  I  went  away  at  the  expiration  of  215 
verses.  There  were  11,000  verses  to  this  song  —  the  chorus 

being  "  Tural  lural  dural,  ri:  fol  day  " which  was  repeated 

twice  at  the  end  of  each  verse making  —  as  you  will  at 

once  see  —  the  appalling  number  of  22,000  "  tural  lural  dural, 
ri  fol  days" and  the  man  still  lives. 


appearance  his  countenance-  presented  when  he  surveyed  it  in  the  look- 
ing-glass. After  his  lecture  at  the  Salt  Lake  City  Theatre  he  did  not 
lecture  again  until  we  had  crossed  the  Rocky  Mountains  and  arrived  at 
Denver  City,  the  capital  of  Colorado.  On  the  afternoon  he  was  to  lec- 
ture there  I  met  hin>  coming  out  of  an  ironmonger's  store  with  a  small 
parcel  in  his  hand.  * '  I  want  you,  old  fellow,"  he  said;  "  I  have  been  all 
round  the  City  for  them,  and  I've  got  them  at  last."  "  Got  what?  " 
I  asked.  u  A  pair  of  curling- tongs.  I  am  going  to  have  my  hair  curled 
to  lecture  in  to-night.  I  mean  to  cross  the  plains  in  curls.  Come  home 
with  me  and  try  to  curl  it  for  me.  I  don't  want  to  go  to  any  idiot  of  a 
barber  to  be  laughed  at."  I  played  the  part  offriseur.  Subsequently 
he  became  his  own  "  curlist,"  as  he  phrased  it.  From  that  day  forth 
Artemus  was  a  curly-haired  man. 


270 


ARTEMU8  WARD'S  LECTURE. 


^^^^ 


Virginia  City  —  in  the  bright  new  State  of  Nevada. 

A  wonderful  little  city  —  right  in  the  heart  of  the  famous 
Washoe  silver  regions the  mines  of  which  annually  pro- 
duce over  twenty -five  millions  of  solid  silver.  This  silver  is 
melted  into  solid  bricks  —  of  about  the  size  of  ordinary  house- 
bricks —  and  carted  off  to  San  Francisco  with  mules.  The 
roads  often  swarm  with  these  silver  wagons. 

One  hundred  and  seventy-five  miles  to  the  east  of  this  place 
are  the  Reese  River  Silver  Mines  —  which  are  supposed  to  be 
the  richest  in  the  world. 

The  great  American  Desert  in  winter-time the  desert 

which  is  so  frightfully  gloomy  always.  No  trees no 

houses no  people  —  save  the  miserable  beings  who  live  in 

wretched  huts  and  have  charge  of  the  horses  and  mules  of  the 
Overland  Mail  Company. 


ARTEMUS  WARDS  LECTURE. 


271 


PLAINS   BETWEEN   VIRGINIA   CITY    AND    SALT   LAKE, 

This  picture  is  a  great  work  of  art. It  is  an  oil  painting 

—  done  in  petroleum.  It  is  by  the  Old  Masters.  It 
was  the  last  thing  they  did  before  dying.  They  did  this 
and  then  they  expired. 

The  most  celebrated  artists  of  London  are  so  delighted  with 
this  picture  that  they  come  to  the  Hall  every  day  to  gaze  at  it. 
I  wish  you  were  nearer  to  it  —  so  you  could  see  it  better.  I 
wish  I  could  take  it  to  your  residences  and  let  you  see  it  by 
daylight.  Some  of  the  greatest  artists  in  London  come  here 
every  morning  before  daylight  with  lanterns  to  look  at. 
They  say  they  never  saw  anything  like  it 

before and  they  hope  they  never  shall  again. 

When  I  first  showed  this  picture  in  New  York,  the  audience 
were  so  enthusiastic  in  their  admiration  of  this  picture  that 


272 


ARTEMU8  WARD8  LECTURE. 


they    called    for    the    Artist and  when  he  ap- 
peared they  threw  brickbats  at  him. 


A  bird's-eye  view  of  Great  Salt  Lake  City the  strange 

city  in  the  Desert  about  which  so  much  has  been  heard • 

the  city  of  the  people  who  call  themselves  Saints. 

I  know  there  is  much  interest  taken  in  these  remarkable 

people  —  ladies  and  gentlemen and  I  have  thought  it 

better  to  make  the  purely  descriptive  part  of  my  Entertain- 
ment entirely  serious. 1  will  not  —  then  —  for  the  next 

ten  minutes  —  confine  myself  to  my  subject. 
'    Some  seventeen  years  ago   a    small   band  of  Mormons  — 
headed  by  Brigham  Young  —  commenced  in  the  present  thrifty 
metropolis  of  Utah.     The  population  of  the  territory  of  Utah 

is  over  100,000  —  chiefly  Mormons and  they  are  increasing 

at  the  rate  of  from  five  to  ten  thousand  annually.     The  con- 


ARTEMUS  WARD'S  LECTURE.  273 

verts  to  Mormonism  now  are  almost  exclusively  confined  to 
English  and  Germans. Wales  and  Cornwall  have  contrib- 
uted largely  to  the  population  of  Utah  during  the  last  few 

years.     The  population  of  Great  Salt  Lake  City  is  20,000. 

The  streets  are  eight  rods  wide — and  are  neither  flagged  nor 
paved.  A  stream  of  pure  mountain  spring  water  courses 
through  each  street  —  and  is  conducted  into  the  Gardens  of  the 
Mormons.  The  houses  are  mostly  of  adobe  —  or  sun-dried 

brick  —  and  present  a  neat  and  comfortable  appearance. 

They  are  usually  a  story  and  a  half  high.     Now  and  then  you 

see  a  fine  modern  house  in  Salt  Lake  City but  no  house 

that  is  dirty,  shabby,  and  dilapidated  —  because  there  are  no 
absolutely  poor  people  in  Utah.  Every  Mormon  has  a  nice 
garden and  every  Mormon  has  a  tidy  dooryard. Neat- 
ness is  a  great  characteristic  of  the  Mormons. 

The  Mormons  profess  to  believe  that  they  are  the  chosen  peo- 
ple of  God they  call  themselves  Latter-day  Saints 

and  they  call  us  people  of  the  outer  world  Gentiles.  They  say 
that  Mr.  Brigham  Young  is  a  prophet  —  the  legitimate  successor 
of  Joseph  Smith  —  who  founded  the  Mormon  religion.  They 
also  say  they  are  authorized  —  by  special  revelation  from 
Heaven —  to  marry  as  many  wives  as  they  can  comfortably 
support. 

This  wife-system  they  call  plurality the  world  calls  it 

polygamy.     That  at  its  best  it  is  an  accursed  thing  —  I  need 

not  of  course  inform  you but  you  will  bear  in  mind 

that  I  am  here  as  a  rather  cheerful  reporter  of  what  I  saw  in 

Utah and  I  fancy  it  isn't  at  all  necessary  for  me  to  grow 

virtuously  indignant  over  something  we  all  know  is  hideously 
wrong. 

You  will  be  surprised  to  hear  —  I  was  amazed  to  see  —  that 
among  the  Mormon  women  there  are  some  few  persons  of 
education  —  of  positive  cultivation.  As  a  class  the  Mormons  are 
not  an  educated  people but  they  are  by  no  means  the  com- 
munity of  ignoramuses  so  many  writers  have  told  us  they  were. 
12* 


274  ART  EMUS  WARDS  LECTURE. 

The  valley  in  which  they  live  is  splendidly  favored.  They 
raise  immense  crops.  They  have  mills  of  all  kinds.  They  have 
coal  —  lead  —  and  silver  mines.  All  they  eat  —  all  they  drink 
—  all  they  wear  they  can  produce  themselves  —  and  still  have  a 
great  abundance  to  sell  to  the  gold  regions  of  Idaho  on  the  one 
hand  —  and  the  silver  regions  of  Nevada  on  the  other. 

The  President  of  this  remarkable  community the 

head  of  the  Mormon  Church is  Brigham  Young. 

He  is  called  President  Young  —  and  Brother  Brigham.  He  is 
about  54  years  old  —  altho'  he  doesn't  look  to  be  over  45.  He 

has  sandy  hair  and  whiskers is  of  medium  height 

and  is  a  little  inclined  to  corpulency.  He  was  born  in  the 
State  of  Vermont.  His  power  is  more  absolute  than  that  of  any 

living  sovereign yet  he  uses  it  with  such  consummate 

discretion  that  his  people  are  almost  madly  devoted  to  him  — 
and  that  they  would  cheerfully  die  for  him  if  they  thought  the 
sacrifice  were  demanded  —  I  cannot  doubt. 

He  is  a  man  of  enormous  wealth. One-tenth  of  everything 

sold  in  the  territory  of  Utah  goes  to  the  Church and  Mr. 

Brigham  Young  is  the  Church.  It  is  supposed  that  he  specu- 
lates with  these  funds at  all  events  —  he  is  one  of  the 

wealthiest  men  now  living worth  several  millions  —  with 

out  doubt.  —  He  is  a  bold  —  bad  man but  that  he  is  also 

a  man  of  extraordinary  administrative  ability  no  one  can  doubt 
who  has  watched  his  astounding  cancer  for  the  past  ten  years. 
It  is  only  fair  for  me  to  add  that  he  treated  me  with  marked 
kindness  during  my  sojourn  in  Utah. 

The  West  Side  of  Main  Street  —  Salt  Lake  City — including 
a  view  of  the  Salt  Lake  Hotel.  It  is  a  temperance  hotel.*  I 

*  "  Temperance  Ilotd"  At  the  date  of  our  visit,  there  was  only  ono 
place  in  Salt  Lake  City  where  strong  drink  was  allowed  to  be  sold. 
Brigham  Young  himself  owned  the  property,  and  vended  the  liquor  by 
wholesale,  not  permitting  any  of  it  to  be  drunk  on  the  premises.  It 
was  a  coarse,  inferior  kind  of  whiskey,  known  in  Salt  Lake  as  "  Valley 
Tan."  Throughout  the  city  there  was  no  drinking-bar  nor  billiard 


ARTEMU8  WAIWS  LECTURE. 


275 


WEST   SIDE    OF   MAIN   STREET,    SALT   LAKE    CITY. 

prefer  temperance  hotels  —  alt  ho'  they  sell  worse 
liquor  than  any  other  kind  of  hotels.  But 

the  Salt  Lake  Hotel  sells  none nor  is  there  a  bar  in 

all  Salt  Lake  City but  I  found  when  I  was  thirsty  — 

and  I  generally  am  —  that  I  could  get  some  very  good  brandy 
of  one  of  the  Elders  —  on  the  sly  —  and  I  never  on  any 

account  allow  my  business  to  interfere  with  my  drinking. 

room,  so  far  as  I  am  aware.  But  a  drink  on  the  sly  could  always  be 
had  at  one  of  the  hard-goods  stores,  in  the  back  office  behind  the  pile 
of  metal  saucepans;  or  at  one  of  the  dry-goods  stores,  in  the  little  par- 
lor in  the  rear  of  the  bales  of  calico.  At  the  present  time  I  believe 
that  there  are  two  or  three  open  bars  in  Salt  Lake,  Brigham  Young 
having  recognized  the  right  of  the  "  Saints"  to  "  liquor  up"  occasion- 
ally. But  whatever  other  failings  they  may  have,  intemperance  cannot 
be  laid  to  their  charge.  Among  the  Mormons  there  are  no  paupers,  no 
gamblers,  and  no  drunkards. 


276 


ARTEMU8  WAR&8  LECTUEE. 


There  is  the  Overland  Mail  Coach. That  is,  the  den  on 

wheels  in  which  we  have  been  crammed  for  the  past  ten  days 
— and  ten  nights. Those  of  you  who  have  been  in  New- 
gate*—    : 


and    stayed    there    any    length   of    time as 

v  i  s  i  to  r  s can  realize  how  I  felt. 

The  American  Overland  Mail  Route  commences  at  Sacra- 
mento —  California and  ends  at  Atchison  —  Kansas.     The 


*  u  Been  in  Newgate"  The  manner  in  which  Artemus  uttered  this 
joke  was  peculiarly  characteristic  of  his  style  of  lecturing.  The  com- 
mencement of  the  sentence  was  spoken  as  if  unpremeditated ;  then, 
when  he  had  got  as  far  as  the  word  ' '  Newgate,"  he  paused,  as  if  wishing 
to  call  back  that  which  he  had  said.  The  applause  was  unfailingly  up- 
roarious. 


ARTEMUS  WAR&S  LECTURE. 


277 


distance  is  two  thousand  two  hundred  miles but  you  go  part 

of  the  way  by  rail.     The   Pacific  Railway  is  now  completed 

from  Sacramento  —  California  —  to  Fulsom  —  California 

which  only  leaves  two  thousand  two  hundred  and  eleven  miles 
to  go  by  coach.  This  breaks  the  monotony 
it  came  very  near  breaking  my  back. 


At  ''!  "3^^ 


The  Mormon  Theatre. 

This  edifice  is  the  exclusive  property  of  Brigham  Young.  It 
will  comfortably  hold  3,000  persons  —  and  I  beg  you  will  be- 
lieve me  when  I  inform  you  that  its  interior  is  quite  as  bril- 
liant as  that  of  any  theatre  in  London. 

The  actors  are  all  Mormon  amateurs,  who  charge  nothing  for 
their  services. 

You  must  know  that  very  little  money  is  taken  at  the  doors 
of  this  theatre.  The  Mormons  mostly  pay  in  grain  —  and  all 
sorts  of  articles. 


278 


ARTEMUS  WARD'S  LECTURE. 


another  infants' 

As     a     general 


The  night  I  gave  my  little  lecture  there  —  among  my  receipts 

were  corn  —  flour  —  pork  —  cheese  —  chickens on   foot 

and    in    the    shell. 

One  family  went  in  on  a  live  pig and  a  man  attempted  to 

pass  a  lt  yaller  dog  "  at  the  Box  Office  —  but  my  agent  repulsed 
him.     One  offered  me  a  doll  for  admission- 

clothing. 1  refused  to   take  that. 

rule     I     do     refuse. 

In  the  middle  of  the  parquet  —  in  a  rocking  chair  —  with 
his  hat  on  —  sits  Brigham  Young.  When  the  play  drags  —  he 
either  goes  out  or  falls  into  a  tranquil  sleep. 

A  portion  of  the  dress-circle  is  set  apart  for  the  wives  of 
Brigham  Young.  From  ten  to  twenty  of  them  are  usually 
present.  His  children  fill  the  entire  gal- 
lery —  and  more  too. 


Q^ 

F*"****"  -—    ^ ' 


EAST    SIDE   OF   MAIN   STREET,    SALT   LAKE   CITY. 


AETEMUS  WAB&S  LECTURE.  279 

The  East  Side  of  Main  Street  —  Salt  Lake  City  —  with  a 

view  of  the  Council  Building The  legislature  of  Utah 

meets  there.  It  is  like  all  legislative  bodies.  They  meet  this 
winter  to  repeal  the  laws  which  they  met  and  made  last  winter 

and  they  will  meet  next  winter  to  repeal  the  laws  which 

they  met  and  made  this  winter. 

I  dislike  to  speak  about  it but  it  was  in  Utah 

that  I  made  the  great  speech  of  my  life.  I  wish  you  could 
have  heard  it.  I  have  a  fine  education.  You  may  have 

noticed  it.  I  speak  six  different  languages London  — 

Chatham  —  and  Dover Margate  —  Brighton — and  Hast- 
ings. My  parents  sold  a  cow  —  and  sent  me  to  college  when  I 
was  quite  young.  During  the  vacation  I  used  to  teach  a 

school  of  whales  —  and  there's  where  I  learned  to  spout. 

I  don't  expect  applause  for  a  little  thing  like  that.  I  wish  you 

could  have  heard  that  speech  —  however.  If  Cicero 

he's  dead  now he  has  gone  from  us but  if  old 

Ciss*  could  have  heard  that  effort  it  would  have  given  him1  the 
rinderpest.  I'll  tell  you  how  it  was.  There  are  stationed  in 
Utah  two  regiments  of  U.  S.  troops the  21st  from  Cali- 
fornia —  and  the  37th  from  Nevada.  The  20-onesters  asked 

me  to  present  a  stand  of  colors  to  the  37-sters and  I  did 

it  in  a  speech  so  abounding  in  eloquence  of  a  bold  and  brilliant 
character and  also  some  sweet  talk real  pretty  shop- 
keeping  talk that  I  worked  the  enthusiasm  of 

those  soldiers  up  to  such  a  pitch  —  that  they 
came  very  near  shooting  me  on  the  spot. 


*  "  Old  Ciss."  Here  again  no  description  can  adequately  inform  the 
reader  of  the  drollery  which  characterized  the  lecturer.  His  reference 
to  Cicero  was  made  in  the  most  lugubrious  manner,  as  if  he  really  de- 
plored his  death  and  valued  him  as  a  schoolfellow  loved  and  lost. 


280 


ARTEMU8  WAR&S  LECTURE. 


Brigham  Young's  Harem. These  are  the  houses  of 

Brigham  Young.  The  first  on  the  right  is  the  Lion  House  —  so 
called  because  a  crouching  stone  lion  adorns  the  central  front 
window.  The  adjoining  small  building  is  Brigham  Young's  office 

—  and  where  he  receives  his  visitors. The  large  house  in 

the  centre  of  the  picture  —  which  displays  a  huge  bee-hive  — 

is  called  the  Bee  House the  bee-hive  is  supposed  to  bo 

symbolical  of  the  industry  of  the  Mormons. Mrs.  Brigham 

Young  the  first  —  now  quite  an  old  lady  —  lives  here  with  her 
children.  None  of  the  other  wives  of  the  prophet  live  here. 
In  the  rear  are  the  school-houses  where  Brigham  Young's 
children  are  educated. 

Brigham  Young  has  two  hundred  wives."  Just  think  of 
that!  Oblige  me  by  thinking  of  that.  That  is  —  he  has  eighty 
actual  wives,  and  he  is  spiritually  married  to  one  hundred  and 
twenty  more.  These  spiritual  marriages as  the  Mor- 


ARTEMUS  WARD'S  LECTURE.  281 

mons  call  them are  contracted  with  aged  widows  —  who 

think  it  a  great  honor  to  be  sealed the  Mormons  call  it 

being  sealed to  the  Prophet. 

So  we  may  say  he  has  two  hundred  wives.  He  loves  not 
wisely  —  but  two  hundred  well.  He  is  dreadfully 
married.  He's  the  most  married  man  I  ever  saw  in  my  life. 

I  saw  his  mother-in-law  while  I  was  there.  I  c  a  n't  ex- 
actly tell  you  how  many  there  is  of  her  —  butit's 
a  good  deal.  It  strikes  me  that  one  mother-in-law  is  about 
enough  to  have  in  a  family unless  you're  very  fond  of  excitement. 

A  few  days  before  my  arrival  in  Utah  —  Brigham  was  mar- 
ried again  —  to  a  young  and  really  pretty  girl but  he 

says  he  shall  stop  now.  He  told  me  confidentially  that  he 
shouldn't  get  married  any  more.  He  says  fhat  all  he  wants 
now  is  to  live  in  peace  for  the  remainder  of  his  days  —  and 
have  his  dying  pillow  soothed  by  the  loving  hands  of  his  family. 

Well  —  that's  all  right that's  all  right  —  I  suppose  — 

but  Hall  his  family  soothe  his  dying  pillow 
—  he'll  have  to  go  out-doors  to  die. 

By   the    way  —  Shakespeare    indorses    polygamy. He 

speaks  of  the  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor.  How  many  wives 
did  Mr.  Windsor  have? But  we  will  let  this  pass. 

Some  of  these  Mormons  have  terrific  families.     I  lectured 

one  night  by  invitation  in  the  Mormon  village  of  Provost 

but  during  the  day  I  rashly  gave  a  leading  Mormon  an  order 

admitting  himself  and  family. It  was  before  I  knew 

that    he    was    much    married and  they  filled  the 

room  to  overflowing.    It  was  a  great  success but 

I   didn't  get  any  money. 


ARTEMUS  WARDS  LECTURE. 


Heber  C.  Kimball's  Harem. Mr.  C.  Kimball  is  the  first 

vice-president  of  the  Mormon  church  —  and  would  —  conse- 
quently —  succeed  to  the  full  presidency  on  Brigham  Young's 
death. 

Brother  Kimball  is  a  gay  and  festive  cuss  of  some  seventy 
summers or  some'ers  thereabout.  He  has  one  thous- 
and head  of  cattle  and  a  hundred  head  of 
wives.  He  says  they  are  awful  eaters. 

Mr.  Kimball  had  a  son a  lovely  young  man who  was 

married  to  ten  interesting  wives.  But  one  day while  he 

was  absent  from  home these  ten  wives  went  out 

walking  with  a  handsome  young  man  —  which 
so  enraged  Mr.  Kimball's  son  —  which  made  Mr.  Kimball's  son 
so  jealous  —  that  he  shot  himself  with  a  horse  pistuel. 

The  doctor  who  attended  him a  very  scientific  man 


ARTEMUS  WAR&S  LECTURE.  283 

informed  me  that  the  bullet  entered  the  inner  parallelogram 
of  his  diaphragmatic  thorax,  superinducing  membranous  hem- 
orrhage in  the  outer  cuticle  of  his  basiliconthamaturgist.  It 
killed  him.  I  should  have  thought  it  would. 

(Soft  music.)* 

I  hope  his  sad  end  will  be  a  warning  to  all  young  wives  who 
go  out  walking  with  handsome  young  men.  Mr.  Kimball's 
son  is  now  no  more.  He  sleeps  beneath  the  cypress 
—  the  myrtle — and  the  willow.  This  music  is  a 
dirge  by  the  eminent  pianist  for  Mr.  Kimball's  son.  He  died 
by  request. 

I  regret  to  say  that  efforts  were  made  to  make  a  Mormon  of 
me  while  I  was  in  Utah. 

It  was  leap-year  when  I  was  there  —  and  seventeen  young 

widows the  wives  of  a  deceased  Mormon offered  me 

their  hearts  and  hands.  I  called  on  them  one  day  —  and 

taking  their  soft  white  hands  in  mine which  made 

eighteen  hands  altogether I  found  them  in 

tears. 

And  I  said "  Why  is  this  thus  ?  What  is  the  reason 

ofthisthusness?" 

They  hove  a  sigh seventeen  sighs  of  different  size. 

They  said  — 

"  Oh  —  soon  thou  wilt  be  gonested  away  !  " 

I  told  them  that  when  I  got  ready  to  leave  a  place  I  went- 
ested. 

They  said  —  "  Doth  not  like  us  ?  " 

I    said— "I    doth 1   doth!" 

*  "Soft  Music."  Here  Artemus  Ward's  pianist  (following  instruc- 
tions) sometimes  played  the  dead  march  from  "  Saul.1"  At  other  times, 
the  Welsh  air  of  "Poor  Mary  Anne;  "  or  anything  else  replete  with 
sadness  which  might  chance  to  strike  his  fancy.  The  effect  was  irre- 
sistibly comic. 


284: 


ARTEMUS  WARD'S  LECTURE. 


I  also  said — "I  hope  your  intentions  are  honorable  —  as  1 

am  a  lone  child my   parents   being   far— far   away. 

They  then  said  —  "  Wilt  not  marry  us  ?  " 

I  said  —  "Oh  —  no it  cannot  was." 

Again  they  asked  me  to  marry  them  —  and  again  I  declined. 
When  they  cried  — 

"  Oh  —  cruel  man  !     This  is  too  much oh !  too  much  ?  " 

I  told  them  that  it  was  on  account  of 
the  muchness  that  I  declined. 


This  is  the  Mormon  Temple. 

It  is  built  of  adobe  —  and  will  hold  five  thousand  persons 
quite  comfortably.  A  full  brass  and  string  band  often  assists 

the  choir  of  this  church and  the  choir  —  I  may  add  —  is  a 

remarkably  good  one. 


ARTEMUS  WARPS  LECTURE. 


285 


Brigliam  Young  seldom  preaches  now.     The  younger  elders 

unless  on  some  special  occasion  —  conduct  the  services. 

I  only  heard  Mr.  Young  once.     He  is  not  an  educated  man 

but  speaks  with  considerable  force  and  clearness.     The 

day  I  was  there  there  was  nothing  coarse  in  his  remarks. 


g%sgQ<%zXgg&s^ 


yKXXXXXXVW[ 


The  foundations  of  the  Temple. 

These  are  the  foundations  of  the  magnificent  Temple  the 
Mormons  are  building.  It  is  to  be  built  of  hewn  stone  —  and 
will  cover  several  acres  of  ground.  They  say  it  shall  eclipse 
in  splendor  all  other  temples  in  the  world.  They  also  say  it 
shall  be  paved  with  solid  gold. 

It  is  perhaps  worthy  of  remark  that  the  architect  of  this  con- 
templated gorgeous  affair  repudiated  Mormonism  —  and  is  now 
living  in  London. 


286 


ARTEMUS  WAR&S  LECTURE. 


The  Temple  as  it  is  to  be. 

This  pretty  little  picture  is  from  the  architect's  design 

and  cannot  therefore  —  I  suppose  —  be  called  a  fancy  sketch. 

Should  the  Mormons  continue  unmolested  —  I  think  they 
will  complete  this  rather  remarkable  edifice. 

Great  Salt  Lake. The  great  salt  dead  sea  of  the 

desert. 

I  know  of  no  greater  curiosity  than  this  inland  sea  of  thick 
brine.  It  is  eighty  miles  wide  —  and  one  hundred  and  thirty 
miles  long.  Solid  masses  of  salt  are  daily  washed  ashore  in  im- 
mense heaps  —  and  the  Mormon  in  want  of  salt  has  only  to  go 
to  the  shore  of  this  lake  and  fill  his  cart.  Only  —  the  salt  for 
table  use  has  to  be  subjected  to  a  boiling  process. 


ARTEMUS  WARD'S  LECTURE. 


287 


XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 


GREAT    SALT   LAKE. 

These  are  facts  —  susceptible  of  the  clearest  possible  proof. 
They  tell  one  story  about  this  lake — however  —  that  I  have 
my  doubts  about.  They  say  a  Mormon  farmer  drove  forty 
head  of  cattle  in  there  once  —  and  they  came  out  first- 
rate  pickled  bee f. 


288 


ARTEMUS  WARPS  LECTURE. 


I  sincerely  hope  you  will  excuse  my  absence I  am  a 

man  short  —  and  have  to  work  the  moon  myself.* 

I  shall  be  most  happy  to  pay  a  good 
salary  to  any  respectable  boy  of  good 
parentage  and  education  who  is  a  good 
m  o  o  n  i  s  t. 


The  Endowment  House. 

*  "  The  Moon  myself."  Here  Artemus  would  leave  the  rostrum  for  a 
few  moments,  and  pretend  to  be  engaged  behind.  The  picture  was 
painted  for  a  night-scene,  and  the  effect  intended  to  be  produced  was 
that  of  the  moon  rising  "over  the  lake  and  rippling  on  the  waters.  It 
was  produced  in  the  usual  dioramic  way,  by  making  the  track  of  the 
moon  transparent  and  throwing  the  moon  on  from  the  bull's  eye  of  a 
lantern.  When  Artemus  went  behind,  the  moon  would  become  nervous 
and  flickering,  dancing  up  and  down  in  the  most  inartistic  and  unde- 
cided manner.  The  result  was  that,  coupled  with  the  lecturer's  oddly 
expressed  apology,  the  "moon"  became  one  of  the  best  laughed-at 
parts  of  the  entertainment. 


ARTEMUS  WARD'S  LECTURE. 


289 


In  this  building  the  Mormon  is  initiated  into  the  mysteries 
of  the  faith. 

Strange  stories  are  told  of  the  proceedings  which  are  held  in 

this  building but  I  have  no  possible  means  of  knowing 

how  true  they  may  be. 


Salt  Lake  City  is  fifty-five  miles  behind  us  —  and  this  is  Echo 
Canon  —  in  reaching  which  we  are  supposed  to  have  crossed 
the  summit  of  the  Wahsatch  Mountains.  These  ochre-colored 

bluffs formed  of  conglomerate  sandstone  —  and  full  of 

fossils signal  the  entrance  to  the  Canon.     At  its  base 

lies  Weber  Station. 

Echo   Canon  is  about  twenty-five  miles  long.     It  is  really 
the  sublimest  thing  between  the  Missouri  and  the  Sierra  Ne- 
vada.    The  red  wall  to  the  left  develops  farther  up  the  Canon 
13 


290 


ARTEMUS  WARD'S  LECTURE. 


into     pyramids  —  buttresses  —  and    castles honeycombed 

and  fretted  in  nature's  own  massive  magnificence  of  architec- 
ture. 

In  1856  —  Echo  Canon  was  the  place  selected  by  Brigham 
Young  for  the  Mormon  General  Wells  to  fortify  and  make  im- 
pregnable against  the  advance  of  the  American  army  —  led  by 
General  Albert  Sidney  Johnson.  It  was  to  have  been  the 

Thermopylae    of  Mormondom but  it   wasn't.     General 

"Wells  was  to  have  done  Leonidas but  he  didn't. 


A  more  cheerful  view  of  the  Desert. 

The  wild  snow-storms  have  left  us  —  and  we  have  thrown  our 
wolf-skin  overcoats  aside,  Certain  tribes  of  far-r western  Indians 
bury  their  distinguished  dead  by  placing  them  high  in  air  and 

covering  them  with  valuable  furs that  is  a  very  fair 

representation  of  these  mid-air  tombs,  Those  animals  are 
horses — -—I  know  they  are  —  because  my  artist  says  so. 


ARTEMUS  WARD'S  LECTURE. 


291 


I  had  the  picture  two  years  before  I  discovered  the  fact. 

The  artist  came  to  me  about  six  months  ago  —  and  said 

"  It  is  useless  to  disguise  it  from  you  any  longer they 

are  horses." 

It  was  while  crossing  this  desert  that  I  was  surrounded  by  a 

band  of  Ute  Indians.  They  were  splendidly  mounted 

they  were  dressed  in  beaver-skins and  they  were  armed 

with  rifles —  knives  —  and  pistols. 

What  could  I  do  ? What  could  a  poor  old  orphan  do  ? 

I'm  a  brave  man. The  day  before  the  Battle  of  Bull's  Run 


OUR   ENCOUNTER   WITH   THE    INDIANS. 

I  stood  in  the  highway  while  the  bullets those  dreadful 

messengers  of  death were    passing    all    around 

me    thickly IN   WAGGONS on    their   way 


292  ARTEMUS  WARD'S  LECTURE. 

to    the    battle-fiel d.*     But  there   were   too    many   of 

these  Injuns there  were  forty  of  them  —  and  only  one 

of  me and  so  I  said  — 

"  Great  Chief  —  I  surrender."  His  name  was  Wocky- 
bocky. 

He  dismounted  —  and  approached  me.  I  saw  his  tomahawk 
glisten  in  the  morning  sunlight.  Fire  was  in  his  eye.  Wocky- 
bocky  came  very  close  to  me  and  seized  me  by  the  hair  of  my 
head.  He  mingled  his  swarthy  fingers  with  my  golden  tresses 
and  he  rubbed  his  dreadful  Thomashawk  across  my  lily- 
white  face.  He  said  — 

"  Torsha  arrah  darrah  mishky  bookshean  !  " 

I  told  him  he  was  right. 

Wocky-bocky  again  rubbed  his  tomahawk  across  my  face, 
and  said  —  "  Wink-ho  —  loo-boo !  " 

SaJS  I  _  «  Mr.  Wocky-bocky  "  —  says  I "  Wocky  —  I 

have  thought  so  for  years  —  and  so's  all 
our  family." 

He  told  me  I  must  go  to  the  tent  of  the  Strong-Heart  and 
eat  raw  dog.f  It  don't  agree  with  me.  I  prefer  simple  food. 
I  prefer  pork-pie  —  because  then  I  know 
what  I'm  eating.  But  as  raw  dog  was  all  they  proposed  to 
give  to  me  —  I  had  to  eat  it  or  starve.  So  at  the  expiration  of 

*  '  *  Their  way  to  the  battle-fidd. "  This  was  the  great  joke  of  Artemus 
Ward's  first  lecture,  "The  Babes  in  the  Wood."  He  never  omitted  it 
in  any  of  his  lectures,  nor  did  it  lose  its  power  to  create  laughter  by 
repetition.  The  audiences  at  the  Egyptian  Hall,  London,  laughed  as  im- 
moderately at  it  as  did  those  of  Irving  Hall,  New  York,  or  of  the  Tre- 
mont  Temple  in  Boston. 

f  "  Raw  dog."  While  sojourning  for  a  day  in  a  camp  of  Sioux  In- 
dians we  were  informed  that  the  warriors  of  the  tribe  were  accustomed 
to  eat  raw  dog  to  give  them  courage  previous  to  going  to  battle.  Ar- 
temus was  greatly  amused  with  the  information.  When,  in  after  years, 
he  became  weak  and  languid,  and  was  called  upon  to  go  to  lecture,  it 
was  a  favorite  joke  with  him  to  inquire,  "  Kingston,  have  you  got  any 
raw  dog  ?  " 


ARTEMUS  WARPS  LECTURE. 


203 


two  days  I  seized  a  tin  plate  and  went  to  the  chiefs  daughter 

—  and   I  said  to  her  in   a   silvery  voice in     a    kind 

of    German-silvery    voice 1    said  — 

"Sweet  child  of  the  forest,  the  pale-face  wants  his  dog." 
There  was  nothing  but  his  paws  !     I    had   paused    too 
long!     Which  reminds  me  that  time  passes.     A  way  which 

time  has. 

I  was  told  in  my  youth  to  seize  opportunity.  I  once  tried  to 
seize  one.  He  was  rich.  He  had  diamonds  on.  As  I  seized 
him  —  he  knocked  me  down.  Since  then  I  have  learned  that 
he  who  seizes  opportunity  sees  the  penitentiary. 


The  Rocky  Mountains. 

I  take  it  for  granted  you  have  heard  of  these  popular  moun- 
tains. In  America  they  are  regarded  as  a  great 
success,  and  we  all  love  dearly  to  talk  about  them.  It  ig 


294 


ARTEMUS  WARPS  LECTURE. 


a  kind  of  weakness  with  us.  I  never  knew  but  one  American 
who  hadn't  something  —  some  time  —  to  say  about  the  Rocky 
Mountains  —  and  he  was  a  deaf  and  dumb  man,  who  couldn't 
say  anything  about  nothing. 

But  these  mountains  —  whose  summits  are  snow-covered 
and  icy  all  the  year  round  —  are  too  grand  to  make  fun  of.  I 
crossed  them  in  the  winter  of  '64 — in  a  rough  sleigh  drawn 
by  four  mules. 

This  sparkling  waterfall  is  the  Laughing-Water  alluded  to  by 
Mr.  Longfellow  in  his  Indian  poem  —  "  Higher- Water."  The 
water  is  higher  up  there. 


The  plains  of  Colorado. 

These  are  the  dreary  plains  over  which  we  rode  for  so  many 
weary  days.  An  affecting  incident  occurred  on  these  plains 
some  time  since,  which  I  am  sure  you  will  pardon  me  for  in- 
troducing here. 


ARTEMUS  WARD'S  LECTURE. 

On  a  beautiful  June  morning  —  some  sixteen  years 
(Music,  very  loud  till  tlie  scene  is  off.) 


* 
* 

-and  she  fainted  on  Reginald's  breast!* 


295 


^^ 


ps^ 


The  Prairie  on  Fire. 

*  "  On  Reginald's  breast.'1'  At  this  part  of  the  lecture  Artemus  pre- 
tended to  tell  a  story — the  piano  playing  loudly  all  the  time.  He  con- 
tinued his  narration  hi  excited  dumb-show  —  his  lips  moving  as  though 
he  were  speaking.  For  some  minutes  the  audience  indulged  in  unre- 
strained laughter. 


296 


ARTEMUS  WARD'S  LECTURE. 


A  prairie  on  fire  is  one  of  the  wildest  and  grandest  sights 
that  can  possibly  be  imagined. 

These  fires  occur  —  of  course  —  in  the  summer  —  when  the 

grass  is  dry  as  tinder and  the  flames  rush  and  roar  over 

the  prairie  in  a  manner  frightful  to  behold.  They  usually  burn 
better  than  mine  is  burning  to-night.  I  t  r  y  t  o  make  my 
prairie  burn  regularly  —  and  not  disap- 
point the  public but  it  is  not  as  high- 

principled  as  I  am. 


bficx>oc^^ 


Brigham  Young  at  home. 

The  last  picture  I  have  to  show  you  represents  Mr.  Brigham 


ARTEMUS  WARD'S  LECTURE.        297 

Young  in  the  bosom  of  his  family.  His  family  is  large  —  and 
the  olive  branches  around  his  table  are  in  a  very  tangled  con- 
dition. He  is  more  a  father  than  any  man  I 

know.     When   at   home as   you  here  see  him h  e 

ought  to  be  very  happy  with  sixty  wives 
to  minister  to  his  comforts  —  and  twice 
sixty  children  to  soothe  his  distracted 
mind.  Ah!  my  friends what  is  home  without 

a  family? 

What  will  become  of  Mormonism  ?  We  all  know  and  ad- 
mit it  to  be  a  hideous  wrong a  great  immoral  stain  upon 

the  'scutcheon  of  the  United  States.  My  belief  is  that  its 
existence  is  dependent  upon  the  life  of  Brigham  Young.  His 

administrative  ability  holds  the  system  together his  power 

of  will  maintains  it  as  the  faith  of  a  community.  When  he 
dies  —  Mormonism  will  die  too.  The  men  who  are  around 
him  have  neither  his  talent  nor  his  energy.  By  means  of  his 
strength  it  is  held  together.  When  he  falls  —  Mormonism  will 
also  fall  to  pieces. 

That  lion  —  you  perceive  —  has  a  tail.  It  is  a  long  one 
already.  Like  mine  —  it  is  to  be  continued  in  our  next. 


THE  END. 
13* 


AXXXS 


The  curtain  fell  for  the  last  time  on  Wednesday,  the  23d  of  January, 
1867.  Artemus  Ward  had  to  break  off  the  lecture  abruptly.  He  never 
lectured  again. 


PROGRAMME   USED  AT 


PICCADILLY. 


Every  Night   (except   Saturday)  at  8. 
SATURDAY  MORNINGS  AT  3. 


KTEMUS  HAKD 

AHOSG   TEE  MORMONS. 


During  the  Vacation  the  HaU  has  been  carefully  Swept  out,  and  a  new 
Door-Knob  has  been  added  to  the  Door. 


MR.   ARTEMUS  WARD  ivtil  caU  on  the  Citizens  of  London,  at  their 

residences,  and  explain  any  jokes  in  his  narrative  which 

they  may  not  understand. 


A  person  of  long-established  integrity  will  take  excellent  care  of 
Bonnets,  Cloaks,  etc. ,  during  the  Entertainment ;  the  Audience  better 
leave  their  money,  however,  with  Mr.  WARD  ;  he  will  return  it  to  them 
in  a  day  or  two,  or  invest  it  for  them  in  America  as  they  may  think 
best. 


obody  must  say  that  he  likes  the  Lecture  unless  he  wishes  to 
be  thought  eccentric  ;  and  nobody  must  say  that  he  doesn't  like  it  un- 
less he  really  is  eccentric.  (This  requires  thinking  over,  but  it  will 
amply  repay  perusal. ) 


The  Panorama  used  to  Illustrate  Mr.  Ward's  Narrative  is  rather  worse 
than  Panoramas  usually  are. 


Mr.  WARD  will  not  be  responsible  for  any  debts  of  his  own  con- 
tracting. 


I. 
APPEARANCE   OF   ARTEMUS    WARD, 

Who  will  be  greeted  with  applause.  DSIF='  The  Stall-keeper  is 
particularly  requested  to  attend  to  this.  ^JjFfi  When  quiet 
has  been  restored,  the  Lecturer  will  present  a  rather  frisky  pro- 
logue, of  about  ten  minutes  in  length,  and  of  nearly  the  same 
width.  It  perhaps  isn't  necessary  to  speak  of  the  depth. 

II. 

THE  PICTURES  COMMENCE  HERE,  the  first  one 
being  a  view  of  the  California  Steamship.  Large  crowd  of  citi- 
zens on  the  wharf,  who  appear  to  be  entirely  willing  that  AR- 
TEMUS WARD  shall  go.  "  Bless  you,  Sir ! "  they  say.  "  Don't 
hurry  about  coming  back.  Stay  away  for  years,  if  you  want 
to ! "  It  was  very  touching.  Disgraceful  treatment  of  the 
passengers,  who  are  obliged  to  go  forward  to  smoke  pipes, 
while  the  steamer  herself  is  allowed  2  Smoke  Pipes  amidships. 
At  Panama.  A  glance  at  Mexico. 


III. 
THE  LAND  OF  GOLD. 

Montgomery  Street,  San  Francisco.  The  Gold  Bricks. 
Street  Scenes.  "  The  Orphan  Cabman,  or  the  Mule  Driver's 
Step-Father."  The  Chinese  Theatre.  Sixteen  square  yards  of 
a  Chinese  Comic  Song. 

IV. 

THE  LAND  OF  SILVER. 

Virginia  City,  the  wild  young  metropolis  of  the  new  Silver 
State.  Fortunes  are  made  there  in  a  day.  There  are  instances 
on  record  of  young  men  going  to  this  place  without  a  shilling 
—  poor  and  friendless  —  yet  by  energy,  intelligence,  and  a  care- 
ful disregard  to  business,  they  have  been  enabled  to  leave  there, 
owing  hundreds  of  pounds. 

v. 
THE  GREAT  DESERT  AT  NIGHT. 

A  dreary  waste  of  Sand.  The  Sand  isn't  worth  saving,  how- 
ever. Indians  occupy  yonder  mountains.  Little  Injuns  seen 
in  the  distance  trundling  their  war-hoops. 

VI. 

A  BIRD'S-EYE  VIEW  OF  GREAT  SALT  LAKE  CITY. 

With  some  entirely  desciiptive  talk. 

VII. 

MAIN  STREET,  EAST  SIDE. 

The  Salt  Lake  Hotel,  which  is  conducted  on  Temperance 
principles.  The  landlord  sells  nothing  stronger  than  salt  butter. 

vni. 
THE  MORMON  THEATRE. 

The  Lady  of  Lyons  was  produced  here  a  short  time  since,  but 
failed  to  satisfy  a  Mormon  audience,  on  account  of  there  being 
only  one  Pauline  in  it.  The  play  was  revised  at  once.  It  was 
presented  the  next  night,  with  fifteen  Paulines  in  the  cast,  and 
was  a  perfect  success.  ££§?"  All  these  statements  may  be  re- 
garded as  strictly  true.  Mr.  WARD  would  not  deceive  an 
infant. 


DC. 

MAIN  STREET,  WEST  SIDE. 

This  being  a  view  of  Main  Street,  West  side,  it  is  naturally 
a  view  of  the  West  side  of  Main  Street. 

x 
BRIGHAM   YOUNG'S  HAREM. 

Mr.  Young  is  an  indulgent  father,  and  a  numerous  husband. 
For  further  particulars  call  on  Mr.  WARD,  at  Egyptian  Hall, 
any  Evening  this  Week.  This  paragraph  is  intended  to  blend 
business  with  amusement. 

XI. 

HEBER  C.  KIMBALL'S  HAREM. 

We  have  only  to  repeat  here  the  pleasant  remarks  above  in 
regard  to  Brigham. 


INTERMISSION  OF  FIVE  MINUTES. 


XII. 

THE   TABERNACLE. 

XIII. 

THE   TEMPLE  AS  IT  IS. 

xrv. 
THE  TEMPLE  AS  IT  IS  TO  BE. 

xv. 
THE  GREAT  SALT  LAKE. 


XVI. 

THE  ENDOWMENT  HOUSE. 

The  Mormon  is  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  his  faith  here. 
The  Mormon's  religion  is  singular  and  his  wives  are  plural. 

xvn. 
ECHO  CANYON. 


xvin. 

THE  DESERT,  AGAIN. 

A  more  cheerful  view.  The  Plains  of  Colorado.  The 
Colorado  Mountains  <c  might  have  been  seen  "  in  the  distance,  if 
the  Artist  had  painted  'em.  But  he  is  prejudiced  against 
mountains,  because  his  uncle  once  got  lost  on  one. 


XIX. 

Brigham  Young  and  his  wives.     The  pretty  girls  of  Utah 
mostly  marry  Young. 

XX. 

THE  ROCKY  MOUNTAINS. 

•  • 

xxi. 
THE  PLAINS  OF  NEBRASKA. 

xxn. 
THE  PRAIRIE  ON  FIRE. 


RECOMMENDATIONS. 


TOTSES,  Oct.  20<A,  1866. 

Mr.  ARTEMUS  WARD  : 

My  dear  Sir, —  My  wife  was  dangerously  unwell  for  over  sixteen  years. 
She  was  so  weak  that  she  could  not  lift  a  teaspoon  to  her  mouth.  But 
in  a  fortunate  moment  she  commenced  reading  one  of  your  lectures. 
She  got  better  at  once.  She  gained  strength  so  rapidly  that  she  lifted 
the  cottage  piano  quite  a  distance  from  the  floor,  and  then  tipped  it 
over  on  to  her  mother-in-law,  with  whom  she  had  had  some  little  trouble. 
We  like  your  lectures  very  much.  Please  send  me  a  barrel  of  them. 
If  you  should  require  any  more  recommendations,  you  can  get  any 
number  of  them  in  this  place,  at  two  shillings  each,  the  price  I  charge 
for  this  one,  and  I  trust  you  may  be  ever  happy. 

I  am,  Sir, 
Yours  truly,  and  so  is  my  wife, 

R.  SPRINGERS. 


An  American  correspondent  of  a  distinguished  journal  in 
Yorkshire  thus  speaks  of  Mr.  WARD'S  power  as  an  Orator : — 

"  It  was  a  grand  scene,  Mr.  ARTEMUS  WARD  standing  on  the  plat- 
form, talking ;  many  of  the  audience  sleeping  tranquilly  in  their  seats ; 
others  leaving  the  room  and  not  returning ;  others  crying  like  a  child 
at  some  of  the  jokes  —  all,  all  formed  a  most  impressive  scene,  and 
showed  the  powers  of  this  remarkable  orator.  And  when  he  announced 
that  he  should  never  lecture  in  that  town  again,  the  applause  was 
absolutely  deafening." 


Doors  open  at  Half -past  Seven,  commence  at  Eight. 
Conclude  at  Half -past  Nine. 

EVERY  EVENING  EXCEPT  SATURDAY. 

SATURDAY  AFTERNOONS  AT  3  r.  M. 


ARTEMUS  WARD, 


PPPFPW7*  JW-J*  8o6 

OPEN   EVERY   EVENING. 


1.  — Introductory. 

2. — The  Steamer  Ariel,  en  route. 

3.  —  San  Francisco. 

4.  —  The  Washoe  Silver  Region. 

5.  —  The  Plains. 

6.  —  The  City  of  Saints. 

7.  —  A  Mormon  Hotel. 

8.  —  Brigham  Young's  Theatre. 

9.  —  The  Council-House. 

10.  —  The  Home  of  Brigham  Young. 

11.  — Heber  C.  Kimball's  Seraglio. 

12.  —  The  Mormon  House  of  Worship. 

13.  —  Foundations  of  the  New  Temple. 

14.  —  Architect's  View  of  the  Temple  when  finished. 

15.  —  The  Great  Dead  Sea  of  the  Desert. 

16.  —  The  House  of  Mystery. 

17.  — The  Canon. 

18.  —  Mid- Air  Sepulture. 

19.  —  A  Nice  Family  Party  at  Brigham  Young's. 


It  requires  a  large  number  of  Artists  to  produce  this  Entertain- 
ment. The  casual  observer  can  form  no  idea  of  the  quantity  of  un- 
fettered genius  that  is  soaring,  like  a  healthy  Eagle,  round  this  Hall 
in  connection  with  this  Entertainment.  In  fact,  the  following 
gifted  persons  compose  the 


Secretary  of  the  Exterior      ......       Mr.  E.  P.  Hingston. 

Secretary  of  the  Treasury      .     .      Herr  Max  Field, 

(Pupil  of  Signer  Thomaso  Jacksoni.  ) 

Mechanical  Director  and  Professor  of  Carpentry  Signer  G.  Wilsoni. 
Crankist       .     .     .    .    .     7    .     .  ~.   \     ....     Mons.  Aleck. 

Assistant  Crankist     ...........    Boy  (orphan). 

Artists    .........     .     .  Messrs.  Hilliard  &  Maeder. 

Reserved  Chairists     .......      Messrs.  Persee  &  Jerome. 

Moppist       ........     *  :  *\.;«       Signorina  O'Flaherty. 

Broomist     ..........    Mile.  Topsia  de  St.  Moke. 

Hired  Man       ................    John. 

Fighting  Editor    ......     ...     .     Chevalier  McArone. 

Dutchman    .....    By  a  Polish  Refugee,  named  McFinnigin. 

Doortendist       ..........      Mons.  Jacques  Ridera. 

Gas  Man  .  Artemus  Ward. 


This  Entertainment  will  open  with  music.     The  Soldiers'  Chorus 
from  "  Faust."     B^*  First  time  in  this  city. 


Next  comes  a  jocund  and  discursive  preamble,  calculated  to 
show  what  a  good  education  the  Lecturer  has. 


View  the  first  is  a  sea-view.  —  Ariel  navigation.  —  Normal  school 
of  whales  in  the  distance.  —  Isthmus  of  Panama.  —  Interesting  in- 
terview with  Old  Panama  himself,  who  makes  all  the  hats.  Old 
Pan.  is  a  likely  sort  of  man. 


San  Francisco.  —  City  with  a  vigilant  government.  —  Miners  al- 
lowed to  vote.  Old  inhabitants  so  rich  that  they  have  legs  with 
golden  calves  to  them. 


Town  in  the  Silver  region.  —  Good  quarters  to  be  found  there.  — 
Playful  population,  fond  of  high-low-jack  and  homicide.  —  Silver 
lying  around  loose.  —  Thefts  of  it  termed  silver-guilt. 


The  plains  in  "Winter.  —  A  wild  Moor,  like  Othello.  —  Mountains 
in  the  distance  forty  thousand  miles  above  the  level  of  the  highest 
sea  (Musiani's  chest  C  included).  —  If  you  don't  believe  this  you  can 
go  there  and  measure  them  for  yourself. 


Mormondom,  sometimes  called  the  City  of  the  Plain,  but  wrongly  ; 
the  women  are  quite  pretty.  —  View  of  Old  Poly  Gamy's  house, 
&c. 


The  Salt  Lake  HoteL  —  Stage  just  come  in  from  its  overland 
route  and  retreat  from  the  Indians.  —  Temperance  house.  —  No  bar 
nearer  than  Salt  Lake  sand-bars.  —  Miners  in  shirts  like  Artemus 
Ward  his  Programme  —  they  are  read  and  will  wash. 


Mormon  Theatre,  where  Artemus  Ward  lectured.  —  Mormons  like 
theatricals,  and  had  rather  go  to  the  Play-house  than  to  the  Work- 
house, any  time.  —  Private  boxes  reserved  for  the  ears  of  Brother 
Brigham's  wives. 


^intermission:  of  ^fibt 


Territorial  State-House.  —  Seat  of  the  Legislature.  —  About  as 
fair  a  collection  as  that  at  Albany  —  and  "  we  can't  say  no  fairer 
than  that." 


Residence  of  Brigham  Young  and  his  wives.  —  Two  hundred 
souls  with  but  a  single  thought,  Two  hundred  hearts  that  beat  as 
one. 


Seraglio  of  Heber  C.  Kiraball.  —  Home  of  the  Queens  of  Heber. 
—  No  relatives  of  the  Queen  of  Sheba.  — They  are  a  nice  gang  of 
darlings. 


Mormon  Tabernacle,  where  the  men  espouse  Mormonism  and  the 
women  espouse  Brother  Brigham  and  his  Elders  as  spiritual  Physi- 
'cians,  convicted  of  bad  doct'rin. 


Foundations  of  the  Temple.  — Beginning  of  a  healthy  little  job. 
—  Temple  to  enclose  all  out-doors,  and  be  paved  with  gold  at  a 
premium. 


The  Temple  when  finished.  —  Mormon  idea  of  a  meeting-house. 

—  N.B.     It  will  be  bigger,  probably,  than  Dodworth  Hall.  — One 
of  the  figures  in  the  foreground  is  intended  for  Heber  C.  Kimball. 

—  You  can  sec,  by  the  expression  of  his  back,  that  he  is  thinking 
what  a  great  man  Joseph  Smith  was. 


The  Great  Salt  Lake.  —  Water  actually  thick  with  salt  —  too  saline 
to  sail  in.  — Mariners  rocked  on  the  bosom  of  this  deep  with  rock 
salt.  —  The  water  isn't  very  good  to  drink. 


House  where  Mormons  are  initiated.  —  Very  secret  and  mysteri- 
ous ceremonies.  —  Anybody  can  easily  find  out  all  about  them 
though,  by  going  out  there  and  becoming  a  Mormon. 


Echo  Canon.  —  A  rough  bluff  sort  of  affair.  —  Great  Echo.  — 
When  Artemus  Ward  went  through,  he  heard  the  echoes  of  some 
things  the  Indians  said  there  about  four  years  and  a  half  ago. 


The  Plains  again,  with  some  noble  savages,  both  in  the  live  and 
dead  state.  —  The  dead  one  on  the  high  shelf  was  killed  in  a  Fra- 
tricidal Struggle.  —  They  are  always  having  Fratricidal  Struggles 
out  in  that  line  of  country.  —  It  would  be  a  good  place  for  an  en- 
terprising Coroner  to  locate. 

* 

*     * 

Brigham  Young  surrounded  by  his  wives  —  These  ladies  are  sim- 
ply too  numerous  to  mention. 


Those  of  the  Audience  who  do  not  feel  offended  with  Arte- 
mus  Ward  are  cordially  invited  to  call  upon  him,  often,  at  his  fine 
new  house  in  Brooklyn.  His  house  is  on  the  right  hand  side  as 
you  cross  the  Ferry,  and  may  be  easily  distinguished  from  the  other 
houses  by  its  having  a  Cupola  and  a  Mortgage  on  it. 

* 
*     * 

E^T  Soldiers  on  the  battle-field  will  be  admitted  to  this  Enter- 
tainment gratis. 


The  Indians  on  the  Overland  Route  live  on  Route  and 
Herbs.  They  are  an  intemperate  people.  They  drink  with  impu- 
nity, or  anybody  who  invites  them. 


*     * 
Artemus  Ward  delivered  Lectures  before 

ALL  THE  CROWNED  HEADS  OF  EUROPE 

ever  thought  of  delivering  lectures. 


TICKETS  50  CTS.        RESERVED  CHAIRS  $1. 
Doors  open  at  7.30  P.M. ;     Entertainment  to  commence  at  8. 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


CRUISE  OF  TUE  POLLY  ANN.  313 


I. 
CRUISE  OF  THE  POLLY  ANN. 

IN  overhaulin  one  of  my  old  trunks  the  tother  day,  I  found  the 
follerin  jeriial  of  a  vyge  on  the  starnch  canawl  bote,  Polly  Ann, 
which  happened  to  the  subscriber  when  I  was  a  young  man  (in 
the  Elite  Lexington  of  yooth,  when  thar  aint  no  sich  word  as 
fale)  on  the  Wabash  Canawl : 

Monday,  2  P.M. — Got  under  wa.  Hosses  not  remarkable 
frisky  at  fust.  Had  to  bild  fires  under  'em  before  they  'd  start. 
Started  at  larst  very  suddent,  causin  the  bote  for  to  lurch  vi- 
lently  and  knockin  me  orf  from  my  pins.  (Sailor  frase.)  Sev- 
ral  passenjers  on  bored.  Parst  threw  deliteful  country.  Hon- 
ist  farmers  was  to  work  so  win  korn,  and  other  projuce  in  the 
fields.  Surblime  scenery.  Large  red-heded  gal  reclinin  on  the 
banks  of  the  Canawl,  bathin  her  feet. 

Turned  in  at  15  minits  parst  eleving. 

Toosdy. — Riz  at  5  and  went  up  on  the  poop  deck.  Took  a 
grown  person's  dose  of  licker  with  a  member  of  the  Injianny 
legislate!*,  which  he  urbanely  insisted  on  allowin  me  to  pay  for. 
Bote  tearin  threu  the  briny  waters  at  the  rate  of  2  Nots  a  hour, 
when  the  boy  on  the  leadin  hoss  shoutid — 

"  Sale  hoe  !  " 

"  Whar  away  ?  "  hollered  the  capting,  clearin  his  glass  (a 
empty  black  bottle,  with  the  bottom  knockt  out)  and  bringing 
it  to  his  Eagle  eye. 

"  Bout  four  rods  to  the  starbud,"  screamed  the  boy. 

"  Jes  so,"  screeched  the  capting.    "  What  wessel  's  that  air  ?  " 

"  Kickin  Warier  of  Terry  Hawt,  and  be  darned  to  you  !  " 

"  I,  I,  Sir  I  "  hollered  our  capting.  "  Reef  your  arffc  hoss, 
splice  your  main  jib-boom,  and  hail  your  chambermaid  !  What  '8 
up  in  Terry  Hawt  ?  " 

"  You  know  Bill  Spikes  ?  "  sed  the  capting  of  the  Warier. 
14 


314  CRUISE  OF  THE  POLLY  ANN. 

<l  Wall,  I  reckin.  He  can  eat  TO  ore  fride  pork  nor  any  man 
of  his  heft  on  the  Wabash.  He  's  a  ornament  to  his  sex  !  " 

'*  Wall,"  continued  the  capting  of  the  Kickin  Warier. 
"  Wily i in  got  a  little  owly  the  tother  day,  and  got  to  prancin 
around  town  on  that  old  white  mare  of  his'n,  and  bein  in  a 
playful  mood,  he  rid  up  in  front  of  the  Court  'us  whar  old 
Judge  Perkins  was  a  holdin  Court  ,and  let  drive  his  rifle  at  him. 
The  bullet  didn't  hit  the  Judge  at  all ;  it  only  jes  whizzed  parst 
his  left  ear,  lodgin  in  the  wall  behind  him ;  but  what  d'ye 
spose  the  old  despot  did  ?  Why,  he  actooally  fined  Bill  ten 
dollars  for  contempt  of  Court !  What  do  you  think  of  that  ?  " 
axed  the  capting  of  the  Warier,  as  he  parst  a  long  black  bottle 
over  to  our  capting. 

tf  The  country  is  indeed  in  danger  !  "  sed  our  capting,  raisin 
the  bottle  to  his  lips.  The  wessels  parted.  No  other  inci- 
dents that  day.  "Retired  to  my  chased  couch  at  5  minits 
parst  10. 

Wensdy. — *Riz  arly.  Wind  blowin  N.W.E.  Hevy  sea  on, 
and  ship  rollin  wildly  in  consekents  of  pepper-corns  havin  bin 
fastened  to  the  forrerd  hoss's  tale.  "  Heave  two  !  "  roared  the 
capting  to  the  man  at  the  rudder,  as  the  Polly  giv  a  friteful 
toss.  I  was  sick,  an  sorry  I  'd  cum.  "  Heave  two  !  "  repeated 
the  capting.  I  went  below.  "  Heave  two  !  "  I  hearn  him  hol- 
ler agin,  and  stickin  my  hed  out  of  the  cabin  winder,  IJiev. 

The  hosses  became  dosile  eventually,  and  I  felt  better.  The 
sun  bust  out  in  all  his  splender,  disregardless  of  expense,  and 
lovely  Natur  put  in  her  best  licks.  We  parst  the  beautiful  vil- 
lage of  Limy,  which  lookt  sweet  indeed,  with  its  neat  white 
cottages,  Institoots  of  learnin  and  other  evijences  of  civilliza- 
shun,  incloodin  a  party  of  bald  heded  cullered  men  who  was 
playing  3  card  monty  on  the  stoop  of  the  "Red  Eagle  tavern. 
All,  all  was  food  for  my  2  poetic  sole.  I  went  below  to  break- 
fast, but  vittles  had  lost  their  charms.  "  Take  sum  of  this," 
sed  the  Capting,  shovin  a  bottle  tords  my  plate.  "  It  's  whisky. 
A  few  quarts  allers  sets  me  right  when  my  stunimick  gits  out 


BETSY-JAIN  RE-ORGUNIZED.  315 

of  order.     It  's  a  excellent  tonic !  "    I  declined  the  seductive 
flooid. 

Thursdy. — Didn't  rest  well  last  night  on  account  of  a  uprore 
made  by  the  capting,  who  stopt  the  Bote  to  go  ashore  and  smash 
in  the  windows  of  a  grosery.  He  was  brought  back  in  about  a 
hour,  with  his  hed  dun  up  in  a  red  hankercher,  his  eyes  bein 
swelled  up  orful,  and  his  nose  very  much  out  of  jint.  He  was 
bro't  aboard  on  a  shutter  by  his  erne,  and  deposited  on  the 
cabin  floor,  the  passenjers  all  risin  up  in  their  births,  pushin 
the  red  curtains  aside  &  lookin  out  to  see  what  the  matter  was. 
"  Why  do  you  allow  your  pashuns  to  run  away  with  you  in  this 
onseemly  stile,  my  misgided  frend  ?  "  sed  a  sollurn  lookin  man 
in  a  red  flannel  nite-cap.  "  Why  do  you  sink  yourself  to  the 
Beasts  of  the  field  ?  " 

"  Wall,  the  fack  is,"  sed  the  capting,  risin  hisself  on  the  shut- 
ter, "  I  Ve  bin  a  little  prejoodiced  agin  that  grosery  for  some 
time.  But  I  made  it  lively  for  the  boys,  Deacon !  Bet  yer 
life !  "  He  larfed  a  short,  wild  larf,  and  called  for  his  jug. 
Sippin  a  few  pints,  he  smiled  gently  upon  the  passenjers,  sed 
"  Bless  you!  bless  you  !  "  and  fell  into  a  sweet  sleep. 

Eventually  we  reached  our  jerny's  end.  This  was  in  the  days 
of  Old  Long  Sign,  be4  the  iron  boss  was  foaled.  This  was  be4 
steembotes  was  goin  round  bustin  their  bilers  &  sendin  peple 
higher  nor  a  kite.  Them  was  happy  days,  when  peple  was  in- 
telligent &  wag  figger's  &  livin  wild  beests  wasn't  scoffed  at. 

"  O  dase  of  me  boyhood 

I  'm  dreamin  on  ye  now  !  " 
XPoeckry.)  A.  W. 


II. 
BETSY-JAIN  RE-OEGUNIZED. 

I  NEVER  attempted  to  re-Orgunize  my  wife  but  onct.     1  shall 
never  attempt  agin. 


316  ARTEMUS  WARD'S  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

I  'd  bin  to  a  public  dinner,  and  had  allowed  myself  to  be 
beTrayed  inter  drinkin  several  peple's  healths ;  and  wishiii  to 
maik  'em  as  Ro-Bust  as  posserble,  I  continner'd  drinkin  thnr 
healths  until  mi  Own  becurii  afflicktid.  Oonsekens  was,  I  pre- 
sunted  myself  at  Betty's  bedside  late  at  nite,  with  considerbul 
licker  koncealed  about  my  persun. 

I  lied  somehow  got  perseschun  of  a  hosswhip  on  my  way  hum, 
and  rememberin  some  kranky  observashuns  of  Mrs  Ward's  in 
the  mornin,  I  snapt  the  whip  putty  lively,  and  in  a  very  loud 
voyce  I  said,  "  Betsy,  you  need  re-Orgunizin  !  I  have  cum, 
Betsy,"  I  contiimered,  crackin  the  whip  over  the  bed — "  1  have 
cum  to  re-Orgunize  yer  \  Ha-ave  you  per-ayed  to-night  ?  " 

I  dreamed  that  nite  that  sumbody  had  layd  a  hosswhip  over 
me  sevril  conseckootive  times,  and  when  I  woke  up  I  found  she 
had. 

I  haint  drunk  mich  of  anythin  sence,  and  ef  I  ever  have 
anuther  re-Orgunizin  job  on  hand  I  shall  let  it  out. 


III. 
ARTEMUS  WARD'S  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

NEW  YORK,  NEAR  FIFTH  AVENOO  HOTEL, 

Org.  3Ict. 
Editer  of  Play  Bill. 

DR  SIR, — Yrs,  into  which  you  ask  me  to  send  you  sum 
leadin  incidents  in  my  life  so  you  can  write  my  Bogfry  for  the 
papers,  cum  dooly  to  hand.  I  hav  no  doubt  that  a  article  onto 
my  life,  grammattycally  jerked  and  properly  puiiktooated,  would 
be  a  addition  to  the  chois  literatoor  of  the  day. 

To  the  yooth  of  Ameriky  it  would  be  vallyble  as  showin  how 


ARTEMUS  WARD'S  AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  SI 7 

high  a  piimykle  of  fame  a  man  can  reach  who  commenst  his 
career  with  a  small  canvas  tent  and  a  pea-green  ox,  which  he 
rubbed  it  off  while  scratchin  hisself  agin  the  center  pole,  causin 
in  Rahway,  N.  J.,  a  discriminatin  mob  to  say  humbugs  would 
not  go  down  in  their  village.  The  ox  resoom'd  agricultooral 
pursoots  shortly  afterwards. 

I  next  tried  my  hand  at  givin  Blind-man  concerts,  appearm 
as  the  poor  blind  man  myself.  But  the  infamus  cuss  who  I 
hired  to  lead  me  round  towns  in  the  day  time  to  excite  simpa- 
thy  drank  freely  of  spiritoous  licker  unbeknowns  to  me  one  day, 
&  while  under  their  inflooance  he  led  me  into  the  canal.  I  had 
to  either  tear  the  green  bandige  from  my  eyes  or  be  drownded. 
I  tho't  I  'd  restore  my  eyesight. 

In  writin  about  these  things,  Mr  Editer,  kinder  smooth  'em 
over.  Speak  of  'em  as  eccentrissities  of  gen'us. 

My  next  ventur  would  hav  bin  a  success  if  I  hadn't  tried  to 
do  too  much.  I  got  up  a  series  of  wax  figgers,  and  among 
others  one  of  Socrates.  I  tho't  a  wax  figger  of  old  Sock,  would 
be  poplar  with  eddycated  peple,  but  unfortinitly  I  put  a  Brown 
linen  duster  and  a  U.S.  Army  regulation  cap  on  him,  which 
peple  with  classycal  eddycations  said  it  was  a  farce.  This  en- 
terprise was  onfortnit  in  other  respecks.  At  a  certin  town  I 
advertised  a  wax  figger  of  the  Hon'ble  Amos  Perkins,  who  way 
a  Railroad  President,  and  a  great  person  in  them  parts.  But 
it  appeared  I  had  shown  the  same  figger  for  a  Pirut  named 
Gibbs  in  that  town  the  previs  season,  which  created  a  intense 
toomult,  &  the  audience  remarked  "  shame  onto  me,"  &  other 
statements  of  the  same  similarness.  I  tried  to  mollify  'em.  I 
told  'em  that  any  family  possessin  children  might  have  my  she 
tiger  to  play  with  half  a  day,  &  I  wouldn't  charge  'em  a  cent, 
but  alars  !  it  was  of  no  avail.  I  was  forced  to  leave,  &  I  infer 
from  a  article  in  the  Advertiser  of  that  town,  in  which  the 
Editer  says,  *f  Atho'  time  has  silvered  this  man's  hed  with  its 
frosts,  he  still  brazenly  wallows  in  infamy.  Still  are  his  snakes 
stuffed,  and  his  wax  works  unreliable.  We  are  glad  that  he 


318  ARTEMUS  WARD'S  AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

has  concluded  never  to  revisit  our  town,  altho',  incredible  as  it 
may  appear,  the  fellow  really  did  contemplate  so  doing  last  sum- 
mer, when,  still  true  to  the  craven  instincts  of  his  black  heart, 
he  wrote  the  hireling  knaves  of  the  obscure  journal  across  the 
street  to  know  what  they  would  charge  for  400  small  bills,  to 
be  done  on  yellow  paper  !  We  shall  recur  to  this  matter 
again  !  " 

I  say,  I  infer  from  this  article  that  a  prejudiss  still  exists 
agin  me  in  that  town. 

I  will  not  speak1  of  my  once  bein  in  straitend  circumstances 
in  a  sertin  town,  and  of  my  endeaverin  to  accoomulate  welth  by 
lettin  myself  to  Sabbath  School  picnics  to  sing  ballads  adapted 
to  the  understandins  of  little  children,  accompanyin  myself  on  a 
claironett — which  I  forgot  where  I  was  one  day,  singin,  instid 
'>f  "  Oh,  how  pleasant  to  be  a  little  child," 

• 

"  Rip  slap — set  'em  up  again, 
Right  in  the  middle  of  a  three-cent  pie," 

which  mistake,  added  to  the  fact  that  I  couldn't  play  onto  the 
claironett  except  making  it  howl  dismal;  broke  up  the  picnic, 
and  children  said,  in  voices  choked  with  sobs  and  emotions, 
where  was  their  home  and  where  was  their  Pa  ?  and  I  said, 
Be  quiet,  dear  children,  I  am  your  Pa,  which  made  a  young 
woman  with  two  twins  by  her  side  say  very  angry ly,  "  Good 
heavens  forbid  you  should  ever  be  the 'Pa  of  any  of  these  inno- 
cent ones,  unless  it  is  much  desirable  for  them  to  expire  igmin- 
yusly  upon  to  a  murderer's  gallus  !  " 

I  say  I  will  not  speak  of  this.  Let  it  be  Berrid  into  Obliv- 
yun. 

In  your  article,  Mr  Editer,  please  tell  him  what  sort  of  a  man 
I  am. 

If  you  see  fit  to  kriticise  my  Show,  speak  your  mind  freely. 
I  do  not  object  to  kriticism.  Tell  the  public,  in  a  candid  and 
graceful  article,  that  my  Show  abounds  in  moral  and  startlin 


ART  EX  US  WARD'S  AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  319 

cooriosities,  any  one  of  whom  is  wuth  dubble  the  price  of  ad- 
mission. 

I  hav  thus  far  spoke  of  myself  excloosivly  as  a  exhibiter. 

I  was  born  in  the  State  of  Maine  of  parents.  As  a  infant  I 
attracted  a  great  deal  of  attention.  The  nabers  would  stand 
over  my  cradle  for  hours  and  say,  "  How  bright  that  little  face 
looks  !  How  much  it  nose  !  "  The  young  ladies  would  carry 
me  round  in  their  arms,  sayin  I  was  muzzer's  bezzy  darlin  and 
a  sweety  'eety  'ittle  ting.  Tt  was  nice,  tho'  I  wasn't  old  enuff 
to  properly  appreciate  it.  I'm  a  healthy  old  darlin  now. 

I  have  allers  sustained  a  good  moral  character.  I  was  never 
a  Railroad  director  in  my  life. 

Altho'  in  early  life  I  did  not  inva'bly  confine  myself  to  truth 
in  my  small  bills,  I  have  been  gradooally  growin  respectabler 
and  respectabler  ev'ry  year.  1  luv  my  children,  and  never 
mistake  another  man's  wife  for  my  own.  I'm  not  a  member  of 
any  meetin  house,  but  firmly  bel'eve  in  meetin  houses,  and 
shouldn't  feel  safe  to  take  a  dose  of  lauclnum  and  lay  down  in. 
the  street  of  a  village  that  hadn't  any,  with  a  thousand  dollars 
in  my  vest  pockets. 

My  temperament  is  billions,  altho'  I  don't  owe  a  dollar  in  the 
world. 

I  am  a  early  riser,  but  my  wife  is  a  Presbyterian.  I  may 
add  that  I  am  also  bald-heded.  1  keep  two  cows. 

I  liv  in  Baldinsville,  Indiany.  My  next  door  naber  is  Old 
Steve  Billins.  I'll  tell  you  a  little  story  about  Old  Steve  that 
will  make  you  larf.  He  jined  the  Church  last  spring,  and  the 
minister  said,  "  You  must  go  home  now,  Brother  Billins,  a.nd 
erect  a  family  altar  in  your  own  house,"  whereupon  the  egrejis 
old  ass  went  home  and  built  a  reg'lar  pulpit  in  his  settin  room. 
He  had  the  jiners  in  his  house  over  four  days. 

I  am  56  (56)  years  of  age.  Time,  with  its  relentless  scythe, 
is  ever  busy.  The  Old  Sexton  gathers  them  in,  he  gathers 
them  in  !  I  keep  a  pig  this  year. 

I  don't  think  of  anything  more,  Mr  Ed'ter. 


320  THE  SERENADE. 

If  you  should  giv  my  portrait  in  connection  with  my  Bogfry, 
please  have  me  ingravecl  in  a  languishiii  attitood,  leanin  on  a 
marble  pillar,  leavin  my  back  hair  as  it  is  now. — Trooly  yours, 

ARTEMUS  WARD. 


IV. 

THE   SERENADE. 

THINGS  in  our  town  is  workin.  The  canal  boat  Lucy  Ann 
called  in  here  the  other  day  and  reported  all  quiet  on  the 
"Wabash.  The  Lucy  Ann  has  adopted  a  new  style  of  Binnakle 
light,  in  the  shape  of  a  red-headed  girl,  who  sits  up  over  the 
compass.  It  works  well. 

The  artist  I  spoke  about  in  my  larst  has  returned  to  Phila- 
delphy.  Before  he  left  I  took  his  lily-white  hand  in  mine.  I 
suggested  to  him  that  if  he  could  induce  the  citizens  of  Phila- 
delphy  to  believe  it  would  be  a  good  idea  to  have  white  winder- 
shutters  on  their  houses  and  white  door-stones,  he  might  make 
a  fortin.  "  It  's  a  novelty,"  I  added,  "  and  may  startle  'em  at 
fust,  but  they  may  conclood  to  adopt  it." 

As  several  of  our  public  men  are  constantly  being  surprised 
with  serenades,  I  concluded  I  'd  be  surprised  in  the  same  way, 
so  I  made  arrangements  accordin.  I  asked  the  Brass  Band  how 
much  they  'd  take  to  take  me  entirely  by  surprise  with  a  sere- 
nade. They  said  they  'd  overwhelm,  me  with  a  unexpected 
honour  for  seven  dollars,  which  I  excepted. 

I  wrote  out  my  impromptoo  speech  severil  days  beforehand, 
bein  very  careful  to  expunge  all  ingramatticisms  and  payin  par- 
ticler  attention  to  the  punktooation.  It  was,  if  I  may  say  it 
without  egitism,  a  manly  eifort ;  but,  alars !  I  never  delivered 
it,  as  the  sekel  will  show  you.  I  paced  up  and  down  the 
kitchin  speakin  my  piece  over  so  as  to  be  entirely  perfeck.  My 
bloomin  young  daughter,  Sarah  Ann,  bothered  me  summut  by 
singin,  "  Why  do  summer  roses  fade  ?  " 


TUE  SERENADE.  32 1 

"  Because,"  said  T,  arter  hearin  her  sing  it  about  fourteen 
times,  "  because  it 's  their  biz  !  Let  'em  fade  !  " 

"  Betsy,"  said  I,  pausin  in  the  middle  of  the  room  and  letting 
my  eagle  eye  wander  from  the  manuscrip — "  Betsy,  on  the  night 
of  this  here  serenade,  I  desires  you  to  appear  at  the  winder 
dressed  in  white,  and  wave  a  lily-white  hankercher.  D  'ye 
hear  ?  " 

"  If  I  appear,"  said  that  remarkable  female,  (t  I  shall  wave  a 
lily-white  bucket  of  bilin  hot  water,  and  somebody  will  be 
scalded.  One  bald-headed  old  fool  will  get  his  share." 

She  refer'd  to  her  husband.  No  doubt  about  it  in  my  mind. 
But  for  fear  she  might  exasperate  me  I  said  nothin. 

The  expected  night  cum.  At  nine  o'clock  precisely  there  was 
sounds  of  footsteps  in  the  yard,  and  the  Band  struck  up  a  lively 
air,  which  when  they  did  finish  it,  there  was  cries  of  "  Ward  ! 
Ward  !  "  I  stept  out  onto  the  portico.  A  brief  glance  showed 
me  that  the  assemblage  was  summut  mixed.  There  was  a  great 
many  ragged  boys,  and  there  was  quite  a  number  of  grown-up 
persons  evigently  under  the  affluence  of  the  intoxicatin  bole. 
The  Band  was  also  drunk.  Dr  Schwazey,  who  was  holdin  up  a 
post,  seemed  to  be  partic'ly  drunk — so  much  so  that  it  had  got 
into  his  spectacles,  which  were  staggerin  wildly  over  his  nose. 
But  I  was  in  for  it,  and  I  commenced : — 

"  Feller  Citizens, — For  this  onexpected  honor " 

Leader  of  the  Band. — Will  you  give  us  our  money  now,  or 
wait  till  you  git  through  ?  " 

To  this  painful  and  disgustin  interruption  I  paid  no  atten- 
tion. 

" for  this  onexpected  honor,  I  thank  you." 

Leader  of  the  jBand. — But  you  said  you  'd  give  us  seven  dol- 
lars if  we  'd  play  two  choons. 

Again  I  didn't  notice  him,  but  resumed  as  follows: — 

"  I  say,  I  thank  you  warmly.  When  I  look  at  this  crowd  of 
true  Americans,  my  heart  swells " 

Dr  Schwazey. — So  do  I ! 
14* 


322  VBOURCY'8  "ARRAH-NA-POGUE." 

A  voice.— We  all  do  ! 

(t my  heart  swells " 


A.  voice. — Three  cheers  for  the  swells. 

"  We  live,"  said  I,  "  in  troublous  times,  but  I  hope  we  .shall 
again  resume  our  former  proud  position,  and  go  on  in  our  glo- 
rious career  !  " 

Dr  jSchwazey . — I'm  will  in  for  one  to  go  on  in  a  glorious 
career  !  Will  you  join  me,  fellow  citizens,  in  a  glorious  career? 
What  wages  does  a  man  git  for  a  glorious  career,  when  he  finds 
Jiimself  ? 

61  Dr  Schwazey,"  said  I,  sternly,  "  you  are  drunk.  You  're 
disturbin  the  meetin." 

Dr  /S. — Have  you  a  banquet  spread  in  the  house  ?  I  should 
like  a  rhynossyross  on  the  half  shell,  or  a  hippopotamus  on 
toast,  or  a  horse  and  wagon  roasted  whole.  Anything  that 's 
handy.  Don't  put  yourself  out  on  my  account. 

At  this  point  the  Band  begun  to  make  hidyous  noises  with 
their  brass  horns,  and  an  exceedingly  ragged  boy  wanted  to 
know  if  there  wasn't  to  be  some  wittles  afore  the  concern  broke 
up  ?  I  didn't  exactly  know  what  to  do,  and  was  just  on  the 
pint  of  doin  it,  when  a  upper  winder  suddenly  opened  and  a 
stream  of  hot  water  was  bro't  to  bear  on  the  disorderly  crowd, 
who  took  the  hint  and  retired  at  once. 

When  I  am  taken  by  surprise  with  another  serenade,  I  shall, 
among  other  arrangements,  have  a  respectful  company  on  hand. 
So  no  more  from  me  to-day.  When  this  you  see,  remember 
me. 


y. 

O'BOTJRCY'S  "  AIIEAH-NA-POGUE." 

You  axe  me,  sir,  to  sling  sum  ink  for  your  paper  in  regards  to 
th3  new  Irish  dramy  at  Niblo's  Carding.     I  will  do  it,  sir. 


VBOURCY'S  "  ARRAH-NA-POGUE."  323 

I  knew  your  grandfather  well,  sir.  Sum  16  years  ago,  while 
I  was  amoosin  and  instructin  the  intellectooal  peple  of  Cape 
Cod  with  my  justly  pop'lar  Show,  I  saw  your  grandfather. 
He  was  then  between  96  years  of  age,  but  his  mind  was  very 
clear.  He  told  me  I  looked  like  George  Washington.  He 
sed  I  had  a  massiv  intellect.  Your  grandfather  was  a  highly- 
intelligent  man,  and  I  made  up  my  mind  then  that  if  I  could 
ever  help  his  family  in  any  way,  I  'd  do  so.  Your  grandfather 
gave  me  sum  clams  and  a  Testament.  He  charged  me  for 
the  clams,  but  threw  in  the  Testament.  He  was  a  very  fine 
man. 

I  therefore  rite  for  you,  which  insures  your  respectability  at 
once.  It  gives  you  a  moral  tone  at  the  word  go. 

I  found  myself  the  other  night  at  Niblo's  Gardiug,  which  is 
now,  by  the  way,  Wheatley's  Garding.  (I  don't  know  what 's 
becuin  of  Nib.)  I  couldn't  see  much  of  a  garding,  however, 
and  it  struck  me  if  Mr  Wheatley  depended  on  it  as  regards 
raisin  things,  he  'd  run  short  of  gardin  sass.  [N.B. — These 
remarks  is  yoomerous.  The  older  I  gro,  the  more  I  want  to 
goak.] 

I  walked  down  the  ile  in  my  usual  dignified  stile,  politely 
tellin  the  people  as  I  parsed  along  to  keep  their  seats.  "  Don't 
git  up  for  me,"  I  sed.  One  of  the  prettiest  young  men  I  ever 
saw  in  my  life  showed  me  into  a  seat,  and  I  proceeded  to  while 
away  the  spare  time  by  reading  Thompson's  Bank  N^ote  Re- 
porter and  the  comic  papers. 
The  ordinance  was  large. 

I  tho't,  from  a  cursiry  view,  that  the  Finnigan  Brotherhood 
was  well  represented. 

There  was  no  end  of  bootiful  wimin,  and  a  heap  of  good 
clothes.  There  was  a  good  deal  of  hair  present  that  belonged 
on  the  heds  of  peple  who  didn't  cum  with  it — but  this  is  a 
ticklish  subjeck  for  me.  I  larfed  at  my  wife's  waterfall,  which 
indoosed  that  superior  woman  to  take  it  off  and  heave  it  at  me 
rather  vilently;  and  as  there  was  about  a  half  bushil  of  it,  it 


324  VBOURCY'8  "  ARRAH-NA-POGUE." 

knockt  me  over,  and  giv  me  pains  in  iny  body  which  I  hain't 
got  over  yit. 

The  orkistry  struck  up  a  toon,  &  I  asked  the  TJshev  to  nudge 
me  when  Mr  Pogue  cum  on  the  stage  to  act. 

I  wanted  to  see  Pogue;  but,  strange  to  say,  he  didn't  act 
durin  the  entire  evenin.  I  reckin  he  has  left  Niblo's,  and  gone 
over  to  Barn  urn's. 

Very  industrious  peple  are  the  actors  at  Barnum's.  They 
play  all  day,  and  in  the  evenin  likewise.  I  meet  'in  every 
mornin,  at  five  o'clock,  going  to  their  work  with  their  tin  din- 
ner-pails. It  's  a  sublime  site.  Many  of  'em  sleep  on  the 
premises. 

Arrah-na- Pogue  was  writ  by  Dion  O'Bourcicolt  &  Edward 
McHouse.  They  rit  it  well.  O'Bourcy  has  rit  a  cartload  of 
plays  himself,  the  most  of  which  is  fust-rate. 

I  understand  there  is  a  large  number  of  O' gen' linen  of  this 
city  who  can  rite  better  plays  than  O'Bourcy  does,  but  some 
how  they  don't  seem  to  do  it.  When  they  do,  1  '11  take  a  Box 
of  them. 

As  I  remarked  to  the  Boy  who  squirted  peppersass  through  a 
tin  dinner-horn  at  my  trained  Bear  (which  it  caiised  that  fero- 
shus  animal  to  kick  up  his  legs  and  howl  dismal,  which  fond 
mothers  fell  into  swoons  and  children  cride  to  go  home  because 
fearin  the  Bear  would  leave  his  jungle  and  tear  them  from  limb 
to  limb),  and  then  excoosed  himself  (this  Boy  did)  by  sayin  he 
had  done  so  while  labourin  under  a  attack  of  Moral  Insanity  — 
as  I  sed  to  that  thrifty  youth,  "  I  allus  incurridge  geenyus, 
whenever  I  see  it." 

It  's  the  same  with  Dan  Bryant.  I  am  informed  there  are 
better  Irish  actors  than  he  is,  but  somhow  I  'm  allus  out  of 
town  when  they  act.  &  so  is  other  folks,  which  is  what 's  the 
matter. 

ACK  THE  1. — Glendalo  by  moonlite. 

Irishmen  with  clubs. 

This  is  in  1798,  the  year  of  your  birth,  Mr  Editor. 


VBOURCY'8  "AIIRAH-NA-POGUE."  325 

It  appears  a  patriotic  person  named  McCool  has  bin  raisin  a 
insurrection  in  the  mountain  districks,  and  is  now  goin  to  leave 
the  land  of  his  nativity  for  a  tower  in  France.  Previsly  to  doin 
so  he  picks  the  pockit  of  Mr  Michael  Feeny,  a  gov*ment  detec- 
tiv,  which  pleases  the  gallery  very  much  indeed,  and  they  joy- 
fully remark,  "  hi,  hi." 

He  meets  also  at  this  time  a  young  woman  who  luvs  him 
dearer  than  life,  and  who  is,  of  course,  related  to  the  goVment; 
and  jus  as  the  gov'ment  goes  agin  him  she  goes  for  him.  This 
is  nat'ral,  but  not  grateful.  She  sez,  "  And  can  it  be  so  ?  Ar, 
tell  me  it  is  not  so  thusly  as  this  thusness  wouldst  seem !  "  or 
words  to  that  effeck. 

He  sez  it  isn't  any  other  way,  and  they  go  off. 

Irish  moosic  by  the  Band. 

Mr  McCool  goes  and  gives  the  money  to  his  foster-sister, 
Miss  Arrah  Meelish,  who  is  goin  to  shortly  many  Shaun,  the 
Lamp  Post.  Mac  then  alters  his  mind  about  goin  over  to 
France,  and  thinks  he'll  go  up-stairs  and  lie  down  in  the  straw. 
This  is  in  Arrah's  cabin.  Arrah  says  it  's  all  right,  me  darlint, 
och  hone,  and  shure,  and  other  pop'lar  remarks,  and  Mac  goes 
to  his  straw. 

The  weddin  of  Shaun  and  Arrah  comes  off. 

Great  excitement.  Immense  demonstration  on  the  part  of 
the  peasantry.  Barn-door  jigs,  and  rebelyus  song  by  McHouse, 
called  "  The  Drinkin  of  the  Gin."  Ha,  what  is  this  ?  Soldiers 
cum  in.  Moosic  by  the  band.  "  Arrah,"  sez  the  Major,  "  you 
have  those  money."  She  sez,  t(  Oh  no,  I  guess  not."  He  sez, 
tf  Oh  yes,  I  guess  you  have."  "  It  is  my  own,"  sez  she,  and 
exhibits  it.  "  It  is  mine,"  says  Mr  Feeny,  and  identifies  it. 

Great  confusion. 

Coat  is  prodoosed  from  up-stairs. 

"  Whose  coat  is  this?  "  sez  the  Major.  "  Is  it  the  coat  of  a 
young  man  secreted  in  this  here  cabin?  " 

I^ow  this  is  rough  on  Shaun.  His  wife  accoosed  of  theft,  the 
circumstances  bein  very  much  agin  her,  and  also  accoosed  of 


326  VBOUKCY'S  "  ARRAH-NA-POGUE." 

havin  a  hansum  young  man  hid  in  her  house.  But  does  this 
bold  young  Hibernian  forsake  her?  Not  much, he  don't.  But 
he  takes  it  all  on  himself,  sez  he  is  the  guilty  wretch,  and  is 
marcht  off  to  prison. 

This  is  a  new  idee.  It  is  gin' rally  the  wife  who  suffers,  in 
the  play,  for  her  husband ;  but  here  's  a  noble  young  feller  who 
shuts  both  his  eyes  to  the  apparent  sinfulness  of  his  new  young 
wife,  and  takes  her  right  square  to  his  bosom.  It  was  bootiful 
to  me,  who  love  my  wife,  and  believe  in  her,  and  would  put  on 
my  meetiii  clothes  and  go  to  the  gallus  for  her  cheerfully,  ruther 
than  believe  she  was  capable  of  taking  anybody's  money  but 
mine.  My  marrid  friends,  listen  to  me :  If  you  treat  your 
wives  as  tho'  they  were  perfeck  gentlemen — if  you  show  'em 
that  you  have  entire  confidence  in  them — believe  me,  they  will 
be  troo  to  you  most  always. 

I  was  so  pleased  with  this  conduck  of  Shaun  that  I  hollered 
out,  "  Good  boy  !  Come  and  see  me  !  " 

"  Silence  !  "  sum  people  sed. 

"  Put  him  out !  "  said  a  sweet-scented  young  man,  with  all 
his  new  clothes  on,  and  in  company  with  a  splendid  waterfall, 
"put  this  old  fellow  out !  " 

"  My  young  friend,"  said  I,  in  a  loud  voice,  "  whose  store  do 
do  you  sell  tape  in  ?  I  might  want  to  buy  a  yard  before  I  go 
hum." 

Shaun  is  tried  by  a  Military  Commission.  Colonel  O'Grady, 
although  a  member  of  the  Commission,  shows  he  sympathises 
with  Shaun,  and  twits  Feeny,  the  Gov'ment  witness,  with  being 
a  knock-kneed  thief,  &c.,  &c.  Mr  Stanton's  grandfather  was 
Setfy  of  War  in  Ireland  at  that  time,  so  this  was  entirely 
proper. 

Shaun  is  convicted  and  goes  to  jail.  Hears  Arrah  singin 
outside.  Wants  to  see  her  a  good  deal.  A  lucky  thought 
strikes  him ;  he  opens  the  window  and  gets  out.  Struggles 
with  ivy  and  things  on  the  outside  of  the  jail,  and  finally 
reaches  her  just  as  Mr  Feeny  is  about  to  dash  a  large  wooden 


AETEMUS  WARD  AMONG  THE  FENIANS.          327 

stone  onto  his  head.  He  throws  Mr  F.  into  the  river.  Pardon 
arrives.  Fond  embraces.  Tears  of  joy  and  kisses  a  la  Pogue. 
Everybody  much  happy. 

Curtain  falls. 

This  is  a  very  hasty  outline  of  a  splendid  play.     Go  and  see 
it. — Yours,  till  then, 

A.  WARD. 


VI. 
AETEMUS  WARD  AMONG  THE  FENIANS. 

To  HOME,  April  1866 

THE  Finians  conveened  in  our  town  the  other  night,  and  took 
steps  toord  freein  Ireland.  They  met  into  the  Town  Hall,,  and 
by  the  kind  invite  of  my  naber,  Mr  Mulrooney  O'Shaughnessy, 
whose  ancestors  at  least  must  have  Irish  blood  in  their  veins, 
I  went  over. 

You  may  not  be  awair,  by  the  way,  that  I  've  been  a  invalid 
here  to  home  for  sev'ril  weeks.  And  it 's  all  owin  to  my  own 
improodens.  Not  feelin  like  eating  a  full  meal  when  the  cars 
stopt  for  dinner,  in  the  South,  where  I  lately  was,  I  went  into 
a  Resterater  and  et  20  hard  biled  eggs.  I  think  they  effected 
my  Liver. 

My  wife  says.  Po,  po.  She  says  I  Ve  got  a  splendid  liver 
for  a  man  of  my  time  of  life.  I  Ve  heard  of  men's  livers  grad- 
ooally  wastin'  away  till  they  hadn't  none.  It 's  a  dreadful 
thing  when  a  man's  liver  gives  him  the  shake. 

Two  years  ago  comin  this  May,  I  had  a  'tack  of  fever-'n-ager, 
and  by  the  advice  of  Miss  Peasley  (who  continues  single  and 
is  correspondinly  unhappy  in  the  same  ratio)  I  consulted  a 
Spiritooul  mejum — a  writin'  mejum.  I  got  a  letter  from  a  cel'- 
brated  Injin  chief,  who  writ  me,  accordin  to  the  mejum,  that 
lie  'd  been  ded  two  hundred  and  seventeen  (217)  years,  and 


328          AETEMUS  WARD  AMONG  THE  FENIANS. 

liked  it.  He  then  said,  let  the  Pale  face  drink  sum  yarb  tea ! 
I  drinkt  it,  and  it  really  helpt  me.  I  Ve  writ  to  this  talented 
savige  this  time  thro'  the  same  mejum,  but  as  yet  I  hain't  got 
any  answer.  Perhaps  he  's  in  a  spear  where  they  hain't  got 
any  postage  stamps. 

But  thanks  to  careful  nussin,  I  'm  improvin  rapid. 

The  Town  Hall  was  jam-full  of  people,  mostly  Irish  citizens, 
and  the  enthusiasm  was  immense.  They  cheer'd  everybody  and 
everything.  They  cheer'd  me. 

"  Hurroo  for  Ward  !      Hurroo  !  " 

They  was  all  good  nabers  of  mine,  and  I  ansered  in  a  pleasant 
voice,  "  All  right,  boys,  all  right.  Mavoorneen,  och  hone,  aroon, 
Cooshla  macree !  " 

These  Irish  remarks  bein'  received  with  great  applaus,  I  add- 
ed, "Mushier!  mushier!" 

"  Good !  good ! "  cried  Captain  Spingler,  who  desires  the 
Irish  vote  for  county  clerk  ;  "  that 's  fas'  rate." 

"  You  see  what  I  'm  drivin  at,  don't  you,  Cap?  "  I  said. 

«  Certainly." 

"  Well,"  I  ansered,  <£  I  'm  very  glad  you  do,  becaus  I  don't." 

This  made  the  Finians  larf,  and  they  said,  "  Walk  up  onto 
the  speaker's  platform,  sir." 

The  speeches  was  red  hot  agin  England,  and  hir  iron  heel, 
and  it  was  resolved  to  free  Ireland  at  onct.  But  it  was  much 
desirable  before  freein  her  that  a  large  quantity  of  funds  should 
be  raised.  And,  like  the  gen'rous  souls  as  they  was,  funs  was 
lib'rally  contribooted.  Then  arose  a  excitin  discussion  as  to 
which  head  center  they  should  send  'em  to — O'Mahony  or  Mc- 
Roberts.  There  was  grate  excitement  over  this,  but  it  was 
finally  resolved  to  send  half  to  one  and  half  to  'tother. 

Then  Mr  Finnigan  rose  and  said,  "  We  have  here  to-night 
sum  citizens  of  American  birth,  from  whom  we  should  be  glad 
to  hear.  It  would  fill  our  harts  with  speechless  joy  to  hear 
from  a  man  whose  name  towers  high  in  the  zoological  and  wax- 
figger  world — from  whose  pearly  lips " 


ARTEMUS  WARD  AMONG  THE  FENIANS.          329 

Says  I,  "  Go  slow,  Finny,  go  slow." 

"  We  wish  to  hear,"  continued  Mr  Finnigan,  moderatin  his 
stile  summut,  "  from  our  townsman,  Mr  Ward." 

I  beg'd  to  be  declined,  but  it  wan't  no  use.  I  rose  amid  a 
perfeck  uproar  of  applaus. 

I  said  we  hed  convened  there  in  a  meetin,  as  I  understood  it, 
or  rather  in  a  body,  as  it  were,  in  ref 'rence  to  Ireland.  If  I 
knew  rny  own  hart,  every  one  of  us  there,  both  grate  and  small, 
had  an  impulse  flowin  in  his  boosum,  "  and  consequentially,"  I 
added,  we  "  will  stick  to  it  similar  and  in  accordance  therewith, 
as  long  as  a  spark  of  manhood,  or  the  peple  at  large.  That  's 
the  kind  of  man  I  be  !  " 

Squire  Thaxter  interrupted  me.  The  Squire  feels  the  wrongs 
of  Ireland  deeply,  on  accounts  of  havin  onct  courted  the  wid- 
der  of  a  Irish  gentleman  who  had  lingered  in  a  loathsum  dunjin 
in  Dublin,  placed  there  by  a  English  tavern-keeper,  who  despot- 
ically wanted  him  to  pay  for  a  quantity  of  chops  and  beer  he 
had  consoom'd.  Besides,  the  Squire  wants  to  be  re-elected 
Justice  of  the  Peace.  "Mr  Ward,"  he  said,  "you  Ve  bin 
drinkin.  You  're  under  the  infloo'nce  of  licker,  sir  !  " 

Says  I,  "  Squire,  not  a  drop  of  good  licker  has  passed  my  lips 
in  fifteen  years." 

[Cries  of  (l  Oh,  here  now,  that  won't  do."] 

"  It  is  troo,"  I  said.  "  Not  a  drop  of  good  licker  has  passed 
my  lips  in  all  that  time.  I  don't  let  it  pass  'em.  I  reach  for 
it  while  it  's  goin  by !  "  says  I.  "  Squire,  harness  me  sum 
more  !  " 

"  I  beg  pardon,"  said  the  Squire,  "  for  the  remark ;  you  are 
sober ;  but  what  on  airth  are  you  drivin  at  ?  " 

"  Yes  !  "  I  said,  "  that 's  just  it.  That 's  what  I  've  bin  axin 
myself  durin  the  entire  evenin.  What  is  this  grate  meetin 
drivin  at?  What's  all  the  grate  Finian  meetins  drivin  at  all 
over  the  country  ? 

a  My  Irish  frens,  you  know  me  well  enuff  to  know  that  I 
didn't  come  here  to  disturb  this  meetin.  Kobodv  but  a  loafer 


330         ARTEMUS  WARD  AtfONG  THE  FENIANS. 

will  disturb  any  kind  of  a  meetin.  And  if  you  '11  notice  it, 
them  as  are  up  to  this  sort  of  thing,  allers  come  to  a  bad  end. 
There  was  a  young  man — I  will  not  mention  his  name — who 
disturb'd  my  show  in  a  certain  town,  two  years  ago,  by  makin 
remarks  disrespectful  of  my  animals,  accompanied  by  a  allosan 
to  the  front  part  of  my  hed,  which,  as  you  see,  it  is  Bald — 
sayin,  says  this  young  man,  '  You  sandpaper  it  too  much,  but 
you  Ve  got  a  beautiful  head  of  hair  in  the  back  of  your  neck, 
old  man.'  This  made  a  few  ignent  and  low-mindid  persons 
larf;  but  what  was  the  fate  of  that  young  man?  In  less  than 
a  month  his  aunt  died  and  left  him  a  farm  in  Oxford  county, 
Maine  !  The  human  mind  can  pictur  no  grater  misfortin  than 
this. 

(t  No,  my  Irish  frens,  I  am  here  as  your  naber  and  fren.  I 
know  you  are  honest  in  this  Finian  matter. 

"  But  let  us  look  at  them  Head  Centers.  Let  us  look  at 
them  rip-roarin  orators  in  New  York,  who  Ve  bin  teariii  round 
for  up'ards  a  year,  swearin  Ireland  shall  be  free. 

"  There  's  two  parties — O'McMahoneys  and  McO'Roberts. 
One  thinks  the  best  way  is  to  go  over  to  Canarly  and  establish 
a  Irish  Republic  there,  kindly  permittin  the  Canadians  to  pay 
the  expenses  of  that  sweet  Boon ;  and  the  other  wants  to  sail 
direck  for  Dublin  Bay,  where  young  McRoy  and  his  fair  young 
bride  went  down  and  was  drowiided,  accordin  to  a  ballad  I  onct 
heard.  But  there  's  one  pint  on  which  both  sides  agree — that 's 
the  Funs.  They  're  willin,  them  chaps  in  New  York,  to  receive 
all  the  Funs  you  '11  send  'em.  You  send  a  puss  to-night  to 
Mahony,  and  another  puss  to  Roberts.  Both  will  receive  'em. 
You  bet.  And  with,  other  pusses  it  will  be  sim'lar. 

"I  went  into  Mr  Delmonico's  *  eatiu- house  the  other  night, 
and  I  saw  my  fren  Mr  Terence  McFadden,  who  is  a  elekent  ;m<l 
enterprisin  deputy  Centre.  He  was  sittiii  at  a  table,  eatin  a 
canvas-back  duck.  Poultry  of  that  kind,  as  you  know,  is 

*  The  first  restaurant  in  New  York,  where  the  best  entertainment  for 
the  highest  prices  may  be  obtained.  —ED. 


ARTEtfUS  WARD  A^fONG  THE  FENIANS.          331 

rather  high  just  now.  I  think  about  five  dollars  per  Poult. 
And  a  bottle  of  green  seal  stood  before  him. 

"  <  How  are  you,  Mr  McFadden?  '  I  said. 

"  i  Oh,  Mr  Ward  !  I  am  miserable — miserable  !  The  wrongs 
we  Irishmen  suffer  !  Oh,  Ireland  !  "Will  a  troo  history  of  your 
sufferins  ever  be  written  ?  Must  we  be  for  ever  ground  under 
by  the  iron  heel  of  despotic  Briton  ?  But,  Mr  Ward,  won't  you 
eat  sutliin  ? ' 

" « Well,' "  I  said,  "  '  if  there  's  another  canvas-back  and  a 
spare  bottle  of  that  green  seal  in  the  house,  I  wouldn't  mind 
jiniii  you  in  bein  ground  under  by  Briton's  iron  heel.' 

"  (  Green  turtle  soup,  first  ?  '  he  said. 

"  '  Well,  yes.  If  I  'm  to  share  the  wrongs  of  Ireland  with 
you,  I  don't  care  if  do  hav  a  bowl  of  soup.  Put  a  bean  into  it,' 
I  said  to  the  waiter.  *  It  will  remind  me  of  my  childhood  days, 
svhen  we  had  'em  baked  in  conjunction  with  pork  every -Sunday 
tnornin,  and  then  all  went  up  to  the  village  church,  and  had  a 
refreshin  nap  in  the  fam'ly  pew.' 

"  Mr  McFadden,  who  was  sufferin  so  thurily  for  Ireland, 
was  of  the  Mahony  wing.  I  've  no  doubt  that  some  ekally  pa- 
triotic member  of  the  Roberts  wing  was  sufferin  in  the  same  way 
over  to  the  Mason-Dory  *  eatiu-house. 

"  They  say,  feller  citizens,  soon  you  will  see  a  Blow  struck 
for  Irish  liberty  !  We  hain't  seen  nothin  but  a  Blow,  so  far — 
it  's  bin  all  blow,  and  the  blowers  in  New  York  won't  git  out 
of  Bellusses  as  long  as  our  Irish  frens  in  the  rooral  districks 
send  'em  money. 

"  Let  the  Green  float  above  the  red,  if  that  '11  make  it  feel 
any  better,  but  don't  you  be  the  Green.  Don't  never  go  into 
anything  till  you  know  whereabouts  you  're  goin  to. 

"  This  is  a  very  good  country  here  where  you  are.  You  Irish 
hav  enjoyed  our  boons,  held  your  share  in  our  offices,  and  you 
certainly  hav  done  you  share  of  our  votin.  Then  why  this  hulla- 

*  Another  restaurant,  only  a  trifle  less  famous  and  expensive  than  its 
more  celebrated  rival.— ED. 


332         ART  EMUS  WARD  AMONG  THE  FENIANS. 

balloo  about  freein  Ireland?  You  do  your  frens  in  Ireland  a 
great  injoory,  too  ;  because  they  b'lieve  you  're  comin  sure  enuff, 
and  they  fly  off  the  handle  and  git  into  jail.  My  Irish  frens, 
ponder  these  things  a  little.  'Zamine  'em  closely,  and  above  all 
find  out  where  the  pusses  go  to." 

I  sot  down.  There  was  no  applaws,  but  they  listened  to  me 
kindly.  They  know'd  I  was  honest,  however  wrong  I  might  be ; 
and  they  know'd,  too,  that  there  was  no  peple  on  arth  whose 
generosity  and  gallantry  I  had  a  higher  respect  for  than  the 
Irish,  excep  when  the  fly  off  the  handle.  So,  my  feller  citizens, 
let  me  toot  my  horn. 

But  Squire  Thaxter  put  his  hand  onto  my  hed  and  said,  in 
a  mournful  tone  of  vois,  "  Mr  Ward,  your  mind  is  failin. 
Your  intellect  totters !  You  are  only  about  sixty  years  of  age, 
yet  you  will  soon  be  a  drivelin  dotard,  and  hav  no  control  over 
yourself." 

"  I  have  no  control  over  my  arms  now,"  I  replied,  drivin  my 
elbows  suddenly  into  the  Squire's  stomack,  which  caused  that 
corpulent  magistrate  to  fall  vilently  off  the  stage  into  the  fid- 
dlers' box,  where  he  stuck  his  vener'ble  hed  into  a  base  drum, 
and  stated  "  Murder  "  twice,  in  a  very  loud  vois. 

It  was  late  when  I  got  home.  The  children  and  my  wife  was 
all  abed.  But  a  candle — a  candle  made  from  taller  of  our  own 
raisin — gleamed  in  Betsy's  room;  it  gleamed  for  I  !  All  was 
still.  The  sweet  silver  moon  was  a  shinin  bright,  and  the  beau- 
tiful stars  was  up  to  their  usual  doins  !  I  felt  a  sentymental 
mood  so  gently  ore  me  stealin,  and  I  pawsed  before  Betsy's 
winder,  and  sung,  in  a  kind  of  op'ratic  vois,  as  follers,  improm- 
too,  to  wit : 

Wake,  Bessy,  wake, 

My  sweet  galoot ! 
Rise  up,  fair  lady, 

While  I  touch  my  lute  ! 

The  winder — I  regret  .to  say  that  the  winder  went  up  with 
a  vi'lent  crash,  and  a  form  robed  in  spotless  white  exclaimed, 


ARTEMUS  WARD  IN  WASHINGTON.  333 

"  Cum  into  the  "house,  you  old  fool.     To-morrer  you  '11  be  goin 
round  complainin  about  your  liver  !  " 

I  sot  up  a  spell  by  the  kitchen  fire  readin  Lewis  Napoleon's 
"Life  of  Julius  Caesar."  What  a  reckless  old  cuss  he  was! 
Yit  Lewis  picturs  him  in  glowin  cullers.  Caesar  made  it  lively 
for  the  boys  in  Gaul,  didn't  he  ?  He  slewd  one  million  of  citi- 
zens, male  and  female — Gauls  and  Gaulusses — and  then  he  sold 
another  million  of  'em  into  slavery.  He  continnered  this  cheer- 
ful stile  of  thing  for  sum  time,  when  one  day  he  was  'sassinated 
in  Rome  by  sum  high-toned  Roman  gen'lmen,  led  on  by  Mr 
Brutus.  When  old  Bruty  inserted  his  knife  into  him,  Caesar 
admitted  that  he  was  gone  up.  His  funeral  was  a  great  success, 
the  house  bein  crowded  to  its  utmost  capacity.  Ten  minutes 
after  the  doors  were  opened,  the  Ushers  had  to  put  up  cards  on 
which  was  printed,  "  Standin  Room  Only." 

I  went  to  bed  at  last.  "  And  so,"  I  said,  "  thou  hast  no  ear 
for  sweet  melody  ?  " 

A  silvery  snore  was  my  only  answer. 

BETSY  SLEPT. 

ARTEMUS  WARD. 


VII. 

ARTEMUS  WARD  IN  WASHINGTON. 

[The  following  paper  was  contributed  by  Mr'Browne  to  Vanity  Fair, 
the  New  York  Punch,  which  terminated  its  career  during  the  late  war. 
Some  of  the  allusions  are,  of  course,  to  matters  long1  past ;  but  the  old 
fun  and  genuine  humour  of  the  showman  are  as  enjoyable  now  as  when 
first  written.] 

WASHINGTON,  April  17,  18C3. 

MY  wife  stood  before  the  lookin-glass,  a  fussin  up  her  hair. 
"What  you  doin,  Betsy?"  I  inquired. 
u  Doin  up  my  back  hair,"  she  replied. 


334  ARTEMUS  WARD  IN  WASHINGTON. 

"  Betsy,"  sed  I,  with  a  stern  air,  "  Betsy,  you  're  too  old  to 
think  about  such  frivolities  as  back  hair." 

<f  Too  old?  too  old  f  "  she  screamed,  "  too  old,  you  bald-heded 
idiot !  You  ain't  got  hair  enuff  onto  your  hed  to  make  a  decent 
wig  for  a  single-brested  grasshopper !  " 

The  Rebook  was  severe,  but  merited.  Hens4th  I  shall  let 
my  wife's  back  hair  alone.  You  heard  me  ! 

My  little  dawter  is  growin  quite  rapid,  and  begins  to  scroo- 
tinize  clothin,  with  young  men  inside  of  it,  puthy  clost.  I  ob- 
sarve,  too,  that  she  twists  pieces  of  paper  round  her  hair  at 
nights,  and  won't  let  me  put  my  arms  round  her  any  more  for 
fear  I  '11  muss  her.  "  Your  mother  wasn't  'fraid  I  'd  muss  her 
when  she  was  your  age,  my  child,"  sed  I  one  day,  with  a  sly 
twinkle  into  my  dark  bay  eye. 

"  No,"  replied  my  little  dawter,  "  she  probly  liked  it." 

You  ain't  going  to  fool  female  Young  America  much.  You 
may  gamble  on  that. 

But  all  this,  which  happened  in  Baldinsville  a  week  ago, 
hain't  nothin  to  do  with  Washington,  from  whither  I  now 
write  you,  hopin  the  items  I  hereby  sends  will  be  exceptable  to 
the  Gin-Cocktail  of  America — I  mean  the  Punch  thereof.  [A 
mild  wittikism. — A.  W.] 

"Washington,  D.  C.,*  is  the  Capital  of  "our  once  happy 
country  " — if  I  may  be  allowed  to  koin  a  frase  !  The  D.  C. 
stands  for  Desprit  Cusses,  a  numerosity  which  abounds  here, 
the  most  of  whom  persess  a  Romantic  pashun  for  gratooitous 
drinks.  And  in  this  conjunction  I  will  relate  an  incident.  I 
notist  for  several  days  a  large  Hearse  standin  in  front  of  the 
principal  tavern  on  Pennsylvany  Avenoo.  "  Can  you  tell  me, 
my  fair  Castillian,"  sed  I  this  mornin,  to  a  young  Spaniard 
from  Tipperary,  who  was  blackin  boots  in  the  washroom — 
"  can  you  tell  me  what  those  Hearse  is  kept  standin  out  there 
for?" 

"  Well,  you  see  our  Bar  bisness  is  great.     You  've  no  idee 

*  District  of  Columbia. — ED. 


AETEXUS  WARD  IN  WASHINGTON.  335 

of  the  number  of  people  who  drink  at  our  Bar  durin  a  day. 
You  see  those  Hearse  is  necessary." 

I  saw. 

Standin  in  front  of  the  tarvuns  of  Pennsylvany  Avenoo  is  a 
lot  of  miserbul  wretches, — black,  white  and  ring  strickid,  and 
freckled — with  long  whips  in  their  hands,  who  frowns  upon  you 
like  the  wulture  upon  the  turtle-dove  the  minit  you  dismerge 
from  hotel.  They  own  yonder  four-wheeled  startlin  curiositys, 
which  were  used  years  and  years  ago  by  the  fust  settlers  of  Vir- 
ginny  to  carry  live  hogs  to  market  in.  The  best  carriage  I  saw 
in  the  entire  collection  was  used  by  Pockyhontas,  sum  two  hun- 
dred years  ago,  as  a  goat-pen.  Becumin  so  used  up  that  it, 
couldn't  hold  goats,  that  fair  and  gentle  savage  put  it  up  at  auc- 
tion. Subsekently  it  was  used  as  a  hospital  for  sick  calves, 
then  as  a  hencoop,  and  finally  it  w^as  put  on  wheels  and  is  no^ 
doin  duty  as  a  hack. 

I  called  on  Secretary  Welles,  of  the  ]S"avy.  You  know  he  is 
quite  a  mariner  himself,  havin  once  owned  a  Raft  of  logs  on 
the  Connethycut  liver.  So  I  put  on  saler  stile  and  hollered : 
"  Ahoy,  shipmet !  Tip  us  yer  grapplin  irons  !  " 

"  Yes,  yes !  "  he  sed,  nervously,  "  but  mercy  on  us,  don't  be 
so  noisy." 

"  Ay,  ay,  my  hearty !  But  let  me  sing  about  how  Jack 
Stokes  lost  his  gal : — 

'  The  reason  why  he  couldn't  gain  her, 
Was  becoz  he's  drunken  saler  ! ' 

"  That  's  very  good,  indeed,"  said  the  Secky,  "  but  this  is 
hardly  the  place  to  sing  songs  in,  my  frend." 

"  Let  me  \yrite  the  songs  of  a  nashun,"  sed  I,  "  and  I  don't 
care  a  cuss  who  goes  to  the  legislator  !  But  I  ax  your  pardon 
—how  's  things  ?  " 

"  Comfortable,  I  thank  you.  I  have  here."  he  added,  "  a  copy 
of  the  Middletown  Weekly  Clarion  of  February  the  15,  con- 
tainin  a  report  that  there  isn't  much  Union  sentiment  in  South 
Caroliny,  but  1  hardly  credit  it." 


336  ARTEMUS  WARD  IN  WASHINGTON. 

"  Air  you  well,  Mr  Secky,"  sed  I.  i '  Is  your  liver  all  right  ? 
How's  your  koff?" 

(l  God  bless  me !  "  sed  the  Secky,  risin  hastily  and  glarin 
wildly  at  me,  "  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

•"  Oh  nothin  partickler.  Only  it  is  one  of  the  beauties  of  a 
Republican  form  of  gov'ment  that  a  Cabnet  offisser  can  pack  up 
his  trunk  and  go  home  whenever  he  's  sick.  Sure  nothin  don't 
ail  your  liver  ?  "  sed  I,  pokin  him  putty  vilent  in  the  stummick. 

I  called  on  Abe.  He  received  me  kindly.  I  handed  him  my 
umbreller,  and  told  him  I  'd  have  a  check  for  it  if  he  pleased. 
"  That,"  sed  he,  "  puts  me.  in  mind  of  a  little  story.  There  was 
a  man  out  in  our  parts  who  was  so  mean  that  he  took  his  wife's 
coffin  out  of  the  back  winder  for  fear  he  would  rub  the  paint 
off  the  doorway.  Wall,  about  this  time  there  was  a  man  in  a 
adjacent  town  who  had  a  green  cotton  umbreller." 

"Did  it  fit  him  well?  Was  it  custom  made?  Was  he 
measured  for  it  ?  " 

"  Measured  for  what  ?  "  said  Abe. 

"The  umbreller?" 

"  Wall,  as  I  was  sayin,"  continnerd  the  President,  treatin 
the  interruption  with  apparent  contempt,  "  this  man  sed  he  'd 
known  that  there  umbreller  ever  since  it  was  a  parasol.  Ha, 
ha,  ha  !  " 

"Yes,"  sed  I,  larfin  in  a  respectful  manner,  "  but  what  has 
this  man  with  the  umbreller  to  do  with  the  man  who  took  his 
wife's  coffin  out  of  the  back  winder  ?  " 

t(  To  be  sure,"  said  Abe — "  what  was  it  ?  I  must  have  got 
two  stories  mixed  together,  which  puts  me  in  mind  of  another 
lit " 

"  Never  mind,  Your  Excellency.  I  called  to  congratulate 
you  on  your  career,  which  has  been  a  honest  and  a  good  one — 
unscared  and  unmoved  by  Secesh  in  front  of  you  and  Abbolish 
at  the  back  of  you — each  one  of  which  is  a  little  wuss  than  the 
other  if  possible  ! 

"Tell   E.    Stanton   that  his  boldness,  honesty,  and    vigger 


ARTEMUS  WAJRD  IN  WASHINGTON.  337 

merits  all  prase,  but  to  keep  his  under-garmints  on.  E.  Stan- 
ton  has  appeerently  only  one  weakness,  which  it  is,  he  can't 
allus  keep  his  under-garmints  from  flyin  up  over  his  hed.  I 
mean  that  he  occasionally  dances  in  a  peck-measure,  and  he 
don't  look  graceful  at  it." 

I  took  my  departer.  "  Good  bye,  old  sweetness  !  "  sed  Abe, 
shakin  me  cordgully  by  the  hand. 

"  Adoo,  my  Prahayrie  flower !  "  I  replied,  and  made  my  exit. 
"  Twenty-five  thousand  dollars  a  year  and  found,"  I  soliloquised, 
as  I  walked  down  the  street,  "  is  putty  good  wages  for  a  man 
with  a  modist  appytite,  but  I  reckon  that  it  is  wuth  it  to  run 
the  White  House." 

"  What  you  bowt,  sah  ?     What  the  debble  you  doin,  sah  ?  " 

It  was  the  voice  of  an  Afrikin  Brother  which  thus  spoke  to 
me.  There  was  a  cullud  procession  before  me  which  was  es- 
cortin  a  elderly  bald-hedded  Afrikin  to  his  home  in  Bates  Alley. 
This  distinguished  Afrikin  Brother  had  just  returned  from 
Lybery,  and  in  turnin  a  corner  puty  suddent  I  hed  stumbled 
and  placed  my  hed  agin  his  stummick  in  a  rather  strengthy 
manner. 

"  Do  you  wish  to  impede  the  progress  of  this  procession, 
sah?" 

"  Certainly  not,  by  all  means !     Procesh  !  " 

And  they  went  on. 

I  'm  reconstructing  my  show.  I  Ve  bo't  a  collection  of  life- 
size  wax  figgers  of  our  prominent  Revolutionary  forefathers.  I 
bo't  'em  at  auction,  and  got  'em  cheap.  They  stand  me  about 
two  dollars  and  fifty  cents  (2  dols.  50  cents)  per  Revolutionary 
forefather. 

Ever  as  always  yours, 

A.  WARD. 
15 


338          SCENES  OUTSIDE  THE  FAIR  GROUNDS. 

VIII. 
SCENES  OUTSIDE  THE  FAIR  GROUNDS. 

THERE  is  some  fun  outside  the  Fair  Ground.  Any  number  of 
mountebanks  have  pitched  their  tents  there,  and  are  exhibiting 
all  sorts  of  monstrosities  to  large  and  enthusiastic  audiences. 
There  are  some  eloquent  men  among  the  showmen.  Some  of 
them  are  Demosthenic.  We  looked  around  among  them  during 
the  last  day  we  honoured  the  Fair  with  our  brilliant  presenc'e, 
and  were  rather  pleased  at  some  things  we  heard  and  witnessed. 

The  man  with  the  fat  woman  and  the  little  woman  and  the 
little  man  was  there. 

"  'Ere  's  a  show,  now,"  said  he,  "  worth  seeing.  'Ere  's  a  en- 
tertainment that  improves  the  morals.  P.  T.  Barnum — you  've 
all  hearn  o'  him.  "What  did  he  say  to  me  ?  Sez  he  to  me,  sez 
P.  T.  Barnum,  c  Sir,  you  have  the  all-firedest  best  show  trav- 
elin  !  ' — and  all  to  be  seen  for  the  small  sum  of  fifteen  cents  !  " 

The  man  with  the  blue  hog  was  there.  Says  he,  "  Gentle- 
MEN,  this  beast  can't  turn  round  in  a  crockery  grate  ten  feet 
square,  and  is  of  a  bright  indigo  blue.  Over  five  hundred  per- 
sons have  seen  this  wonderful  BEING  this  mornin,  and  they  said 
as  they  come  out, f  What  can  these  'ere  things  be  ?  Is  it  alive  ? 
Doth  it  breathe  and  have  a  being  ?  Ah  yes,'  they  say, ( it  is  true, 
and  we  have  saw  a  entertainment  as  we  never  saw  afore.  'Tis 
nature's  [only  fifteen  cents — 'ere  's  your  change,  sir]  own  sub- 
lime handiworks' — and  walk  right  in." 

The  man  with  the  wild  mare  was  there. 

61  Now,  then,  my  friends,  is  your  time  to  see  the  gerratist 
queeriosity  in  the  livin'  world — a  wild  mare  without  no  hair — 
captered  on  the  roarin  wild  prahayries  of  the  far  distant  West 
by  sixteen  Injuns.  Don't  fail  to  see  this  gerrate  exhibition. 
Only  fifteen  cents.  Don't  go  hum  without  seein  the  State  Fair, 
an'  you  won't  see  the  State  Fair  without  you  see  my  show. 


SCENES  OUTSIDE  THE  FAIR  GROUNDS.          339 

Gerratist  exhibition  in  the  known  world,  an'  all  for  the  small 
sum  of  fifteen  cents." 

Two  gentlemen  connected  with  the  press  here  walked  up  and 
asked  the  showman,  in  a  still  small  voice,  if  he  extended  the 
usual  courtesies  to  editors.  He  said  he  did,  and  requested 
them  to  go  in.  While  they  were  in  some  sly  dog  told  him  their 
names.  When  they  came  out  the  showman  pretended  to  talk 
with  them,  though  he  didn't  say  a  word.  They  were  evidently 
in  a  hurry. 

"  There,  gentleMEN,  what  do  you  think  them  gentlemen  say  ? 
They  air  editors — editors,  gentleMEN — Mr ,  of  the  Cleve- 
land   ,  and  Mr ,  of  the  Detroit ,  and  they 

say   it   is   the   gerratist   show  they  ever  seed   in   their   born 
days  !  " 

[Nothing  but  the  tip  ends  of  the  editors'  coat-tails  could  be 
seen  when  the  showman  concluded  this  speech.  ] 

A  smart-looking  chap  was  doing  a  brisk  business  with  a 
gambling  contrivance.  Seeing  two  policemen  approach,  he  rap- 
idly and  ingeniously  covered  the  dice  up,  mounted  his  table,  and 
shouted : 

"  Ere  's  the  only  great  show  on  the  grounds  !  The  highly- 
trained  and  performing  Mud  Turtle  with  nine  heads  and  seven- 
teen tails,  captured  in  a  well-fortified  hencoop,  after  a  desperate 
struggle,  in  the  lowlands  of  the  Wabash  !  " 

The  facetious  wretch  escaped. 

A  grave,  ministerial-looking  and  elderly  man  in  a  white  choker 
had  a  gift-enterprise  concern.  "  My  friends,"  he  solemnly  said, 
"  you  will  observe  that  this  jewellery  is  elegant  indeed,  but  I  can 
afford  to  give  it  away,  as  I  have  a  twin  brother  seven  years  older 
than  I  am,  in  New  York  City,  who  steals  it  a  great  deal  faster 
than  I  can  give  it  away.  No  blanks,  my  friends — all  prizes — 
and  only  fifty  cents  a  chance.  I  don't  make  anything  myself, 
my  friends — all  I  get  goes  to  aid  a  sick  woman — my  aunt  in  the 
country,  gentlemen — and  besides  I  like  to  see  folks  enjoy  them- 
selves !  " 


340  SCENES  OUTSIDE  THE  FAIR  GROUNDS. 

The  old  scamp  said  all  this  with  a  perfectly  grave  counte- 
nance. 

The  man  with  the  "  wonderful  calf  with  five  legs  and  a 
huniing  head,"  and  "the  philosophical  lung-tester,"  were  there. 
Then  there  was  the  Flying  Circus  and  any  number  of  other  in- 
genious contrivances  to  relieve  young  ladies  and  gentlemen  from 
the  rural  districts  of  their  spare  change. 

A  young  man  was  bitterly  bewailing  the  loss  of  his  watch, 
which  had  been  cut  from  his  pocket  by  some  thief. 

"  You  ain't  smart,"  said  a  middle-aged  individual  in  a  dingy 
Kossuth  hat  with  a  feather  in  it,  and  who  had  a  very  you-can't- 
fool-me  look.  "  I  've  been  to  the  State  Fair  before,  I  want  yer 
to  understan,  and  knows  my  bizniss  aboard  a  propeller.  Here  's 
MY  money,"  he  exultingly  cried,  slapping  his  pantaloons'  pocket. 

About  half  an  hour  after  this  we  saw  this  smart  individual 
rushing  frantically  around  after  a  policeman.  Somebody  had 
adroitly  relieved  him  of  HIS  money.  In  his  search  for  a  police- 
man he  encountered  the  young  who  wasn't  smart. 

"  Haw,  haw,  haw,"  violently  laughed  the  latter ;  "by  G — ,  I 
thought  you  was  smart — I  thought  you  'd  been  to  the  State 
Fair  before." 

The  smart  man  looked  sad  for  a  moment,  but  a  knowing 
smile  soon  crossed  his  face,  and  drawing  the  young  man  who 
wasn't  smart  confidentially  towards  him,  said — 

*'  There  wasn't  only  fifteen  cents  in  coppers  in  my  pocket — 
my  MONEY  is  in  my  boot — they  can't  fool  me — I  'VE  BEEN  TO 
THE  STATE  FAIR  BEFORE  ! !  " 


THE  NEGRO  QUESTION.  341 


IX. 
THE  NEGRO  QUESTION. 

I  WAS  sitting  in  the  bar,  quietly  smokin  a  frugal  pipe,  when 
two  middle-aged  and  stern-looking  females  and  a  young  and 
pretty  female  suddenly  entered  the  room.  They  were  accompa- 
nied by  two  umberellers  and  a  negro  gentleman. 

"  Do  you  feel  for  the  down-trodden  ?  "  said  one  of  the  fe- 
males, a  thin-faced  and  sharp-voiced  person  in  green  spectacles. 

"  Do  I  feel  for  it  ?  "  ansered  the  lan'lord,  in  a  puzzled  voice — 
"do  I  feel  for  it?" 

"  Yes ;  for  the  oppressed,  the  benighted  ?  " 

"  Inasmuch  as  to  which  ?  "  said  the  lan'lord. 

"You  see  this  man?  "  said  the  female,  pintin  her  umbreller 
at  the  negro  gentleman. 

"  Yes,  marm,  I  see  him." 

"  Yes  !  "  said  the  female,  raisin  her  voice  to  a  exceedin  high 
pitch,  "  you  see  him,  and  he  's  your  brother  I  " 

"  No  I'  m  darned  if  he  is  !  "  said  the  lan'lord,  hastily  retreat- 
ing to  his  beer-casks. 

"  And  yours  !  "  shouted  the  excited  female,  addressing  me. 
"He  is  also  your  brother  !  " 

"  No,  I  think  not,  marm,"  I  pleasantly  replied.  "  The  near- 
est we  come  to  that  colour  in  our  family  was  the  case  of  my 
brother -John.  He  kad  the  janders  for  sev'ral  years,  but  they 
finally  left  him.  I  am  happy  to  state  that,  at  the  present  time, 
he  hasn't  a  solitary  jander." 

"  Look  at  this  man  !  "  screamed  the  female. 

I  looked  at  him.  He  was  an  able-bodied,  well-dressed,  com- 
fortable-looking negro.  He  looked  as  though  he  might  heave 
three  or  four  good  meals  a  day  into  him  without  a  murmur. 

"  Look  at  that  down-trodden  man !  "  cried  the  female. 

"  Who  trod  on  him  !  "  I  inquired. 


342  THE  NEORO  QUESTION. 

"  Villains  !  despots  !  " 

"  Well,"  said  the  lan'lord,  "why  don't  you  go  to  the  willins 
about  it  ?  Why  do  you  come  here  tellin  us  niggers  is  our 
brothers,  and  brandishin  your  umbrellers  round  us  like  a  lot 
of  lunytics  ?  You  're  wuss  than  the  sperrit-rappers  !  " 

"  Have  you,"  said  middle-aged  female  No.  2,  who  was  a 
quieter  sort  of  person,  "  have  you  no  sentiment — no  poetry  in 
your  soul — no  love  for  the  beautiful  ?  Dost  never  go  into  the 
green  fields  to  cull  the  beautiful  flowers  ?  " 

"  I  not  only  never  dost,"  said  the  landlord,  in  an  angry 
voice,  but  I  '11  bet  you  five  pound  you  can't  bring  a  man  as 
dares  say  I  durst." 

"  The  little  birds,"  continued  the  female,  "  dost  not  love  to 
gaze  onto  them  ?  " 

"  I  would  I  were  a  bird,  that  I  might  fly  to  thou ! "  I 
humorously  sung,  casting  a  sweet  glance  at  the  pretty  young 
woman. 

"  Don't  you  look  in  that  way  at  my  dawter !  "  said  female 
No.  1,  in  a  violent  voice;  "you're  old  enough  to  be  her 
father." 

"'Twas  an  innocent  look,  dear  madam,"  I  softly  said. 
"  You  behold  in  me  an  emblem  of  innocence  and  parity.  In 
fact,  I  start  for  Rome  by  the  first  train  to-morrow  to  sit  as  a 
model  to  a  celebrated  artist  who  is  about  to  sculp  a  statue  to 
be  called  Sweet  Innocence.  Do  you  s'pose  a  sculper  would 
send  for  me  for  that  purpose  onless  he  knowd  I  was  over- 
flowing with  innocency  ?  Don't  make  a  error  about  me." 

"  It  is  my  opinyii,"  said  the  leading  female,  "  that  you're  a 
scoffer  and  a  wretch  !  Your  mind  is  in  a  wusser  beclouded 
state  than  the  poor  negroes'  we  are  seeking  to  aid.  You  are  a 
groper  in  the  dark  cellar  of  sin.  O  sinful  man ! 

*  There  is  a  sparkling  fount, 
Come,  0  come,  and  drink.' 

No :  you  will  not  come  and  drink." 


TEE  NEGRO  QUESTION.  343 

"  Yes,  he  will,"  said  the  landlord,  "  if  you'll  treat.  Jest  try 
him." 

"As  for  you,"  said  the  enraged  female  to  the  landlord, 
"  you're  a  degraded  bein,  too  low  and  wulgar  to  talk  to." 

"  This  is  the  sparklin  fount  for  me,  dear  sister !  "  cried  the 
lan'lord,  drawin  and  drinkin  a  mug  of  beer.  Having  uttered 
which  goak,  he  gave  a  low  runiblin  larf,  and  relapsed  into 
silence. 

"  My  colored  fren,"  I  said  to  the  negro,  kindly,  "  what  is  it 
all  about?" 

He  said  they  was  trying  to  raise  money  to  send  missionaries 
to  the  Southern  States  in  America  to  preach  to  the  vasi 
numbers  of  negroes  recently  made  free  there.  He  said  they 
were  without  the  gospel.  They  were  without  tracts. 

I  said,  "  My  fren,  this  is  a  seris  ma.tter.  I  admire  you  foi 
trying  to  help  the  race  to  which  you  belong,  and  far  be  it  from 
me  to  say  anything  again  carrying  the  gospel  among  the  blacks 
of  the  South.  Let  them  go  to  them  by  all  means.  But  I 
happen  to  individually  know  that  there  are  some  thousands  of 
liberated  blacks  in  the  South  who  are  starvin.  I  don't  blame 
anybody  for  this,  but  it  is  a  very  sad  fact.  Some  are  really 
too  ill  to  work,  some  can't  get  work  to  do,  and  others  are  too 
foolish  to  see  any  necessity  for  workin.  I  was  down  there  last 
winter,  and  I  observed  that  this  class  had  plenty  of  preachin 
for  their  souls,  but  skurce  any  vittles  for  their  stummux. 
Now,  if  it  is  proposed  to  send  flour  and  bacon  along  with  the 
gospel,  the  idea  is  really  a  excellent  one.  If,  on  the  t'other 
hand,  it  is  proposed  to  send  preachin  alone,  all  I  can  say  is 
that  it's  a  hard  case  for  the  niggers.  If  you  expect  a  colored 
person  to  get  deeply  interested  in  a  tract  when  his  stummuck 
is  empty,  you  expect  too  much." 

I  gave  the  negro  as  much  as  I  could  afford,  and  the  kind- 
hearted  lan'lord  did  the  same.  I  said  : 

"Farewell,  my  colored  fren,  I  wish  you  well,  certainly. 
You  are  now  as  free  as  the  eagle.  Be  like  him  and  soar. 


344  ARTEMUS  WARD  ON  HEALTH. 

But  don't  attempt  to  convert  a  Ethiopian  person  while  his 
stummnck  yearns  for  vittles.  And  you,  ladies — I  hope  you  are 
ready  to  help  the  poor  and  unfortunate  at  home,  as  you  seem  to 
help  the  poor  and  unfortunate  abroad." 

When  they  had  gone,  the  lan'lord  said,  (l  Come  into  the  gar- 
den, Ward."     And  we  went  and  culled  some  carrots  for  dinner. 


X. 

ARTEMUS  WARD  ON  HEALTH. 

[The  following  fragment  from  the  pen  of  Artemua  Ward  was  written 
in  the  last  days  of  his  illness,  and  was  found  amongst  the  loose  papers 
on  the  table  beside  his  bed.  It  contains  the  last  written  jests  of  the  dy- 
ing jester,  and  is  illustrative  of  that  strong  spirit  of  humour  which  even 
extreme  exhaustion  and  the  near  approach  of  death  itself  could  not 
wholly  destroy. 

There  is  an  anecdote  related  of  Thomas  Hood  to  the  effect  that  when 
he  was  just  upon  the  point  of  dying,  his  friend,  Mr.  P.  O.  Ward,  visited 
him,  and,  to  amuse  him,  related  some  of  his  adventures  in  the  low  parts 
of  the  metropolis  in  his  capacity  as  a  sanitary  commissioner.  ' '  Pray 
desist,"  said  Hood;  "your  anecdotes  give  me  the  back-slum-dago." 
The  proximity  of  death  could  no  more  deprive  poor  Artemus  of  his 
power  to  jest  than  it  could  Thomas  Hood.  When  nothing  else  was  left 
him  to  joke  upon,  when  he  could  no  longer  seek  fun  in  the  city  streets, 
or  visit  the  Tower  of  London  and  call  it  "  a  sweet  boon,"  his  own  shat- 
tered self  suggested  a  theme  for  jesting.  He  commenced  this  paper  "On 
Health."  Tho  purport  of  it,  I  believe,  was  to  ridicule  doctors  generally ; 
for  Artemus  was  bitterly  sarcastic  on  his  medical  attendants,  and  he  had 
some  good  reason  for  being  so.  A  few  weeks  before  he  died  a  German 
physician  examined  his  throat  with  a  laryngoscope,  and  told  him  that 
nothing  was  the  matter  with  him  except  a  slight  inflammation  of  the 
larynx.  Another  physician  told  him  that  he  had  heart  disease,  and  a 
third  assured  him  that  he  merely  required  his  throat  to  be  sponged  two 
or  three  times  a  day,  and  take  a  preparation  of  tortoiseshell  for  medi- 
cine, to  perfectly  recover !  Every  doctor  made  a  different  diagnosis,  and 
each  had  a  different  specific.  One  alone  of  the  many  physicians  to  whom 
Artemus  applied  seemed  to  be  fully  aware  that  the  poor  patient  was  dy- 


ARTEMUS  WARD  ON  HEALTH.  345 

ing  of  consumption  in  its  most  formidable  form.  Not  merely  phthisis, 
but  a  cessation  of  functions  and  a  wasting  away  of  the  organs  most  con- 
cerned in  the  vital  processes.  Artemus  saw  how  much  the  doctors  were 
at  fault,  and  used  to  smile  at  them  with  a  sadly  scornful  smile  as  they 
left  the  sick-room.  "I  must  write  a  paper,"  said  he,  ''about  health 
and  doctors."  The  few  paragraphs  which  follow  are,  I  believe,  all  that 
he  wrote  on  the  subject.  Whether  the  matter  became  too  serious  to  him 
for  further  jesting,  or  whether  his  hand  became  too  weak  to  hold  the 
pen,  I  cannot  say.  The  article  terminates  as  abruptly  as  did  the  life  of 
its  gentle,  kind,  ill-fated  author.  E.  P.  H.] 

OXTIL  quite  recent,  I  've  bin  a  helfchy  individooal.  I  'm  near 
60,  and  yit  I  Ve  got  a  muskle  into  my  arms  which  don't  make 
my  fists  resemble  the  tread  of  a  canary  bird  when  they  fly  out 
and  hit  a  man. 

Only  a  few  weeks  ago  I  was  exhibitin  in  East  Skowhegan,  in 
a  b'ildin  which  had  forrn'ly  bin  ockepyied  by  a  pugylist — one  of 
them  fellers  which  hits  from  the  shoulder,  and  teaches  the  manly- 
art  of  self-defens.  And  he  cum  and  sed  he  was  goin  in  free,  in 
consekence  of  previ'sly  ockepyin  sed  b'ildin,  with  a  large  yeller 
dog.  I  sed,  "  To  be  sure,  sir,  but  not  with  those  yeller  dog." 
He  sed,  "  Oh,  yes."  I  sed,  «  Oh,  no."  He  sed,  "  Do  you  want 
to  be  ground  to  powder?"  I  sed,  "Yes,  I  do,  if  there  is  a 
powder-grindist  handy."  When  he  struck  me  a  disgustin  blow 
in  my  left  eye,  which  caused  that  concern  to  at  once  close  for 
repairs ;  but  he  didn't  hurt  me  any  more.  I  went  for  him.  I 
went  for  him  energet'cally.  His  parents  lived  near  by,  and  I 
will  simply  state  that  15  ininits  after  I  'd  gone  for  him,  hisi 
mother,  seein  the  prostrate  form  of  her  son  approachin  the 
house  onto  a  shutter  carrid  by  four  men,  run  out  doors,  keer- 
fully  looked  him  over,  and  sed,  "  My  son,  you  've  bin  foolin 
round  a  thrashin  masheen.  You  went  in  at  the  end  where  they 
put  the  grain  in,  come  out  with  the  straw,  and  then  got  up  in 
the  thingumajig  and  let  the  bosses  tred  on  you,  didn't  you,  my 
son  ?  " 

You  can  jedge  by  this  what  a  disagreeable  person  I  am  when 
I  'm  angry.        *'• 
15* 


346  A  FRAGMENT. 

But  to  resoom  about  helth.     I  cum  of  a  helthy  fam'ly. 

The  Wards  has  allus  bin  noted  for  helthiness. 

The  fust  of  my  ancestors  that  I  know  anything  about  was 
Abijah  Ward  and  his  wife,  Abygil  Ward,  who  came  over  with 
the  Pilgrims  in  the  Mayflower.  Most  of  the  Pilgrims  was  sick 
on  the  passige,  but  my  ancestor  wasn't.  Even  when  the  tem- 
pist  raged  and  the  billers  howled,  he  sold  another  Pilgrim  a  kag 
of  apple  sass.  The  Pilgrim  who  bo't  it  was  angry  when  he 
found  that  under  a  few  layers  of  sass  the  rest  was  sawdust,  and 
my  ancestor  sed  he  wouldn't  hav  b'leeved  such  wickedness  could 
exist,  when  he  ascertained  that  the  bill  sed  Pilgrim  gave  him 
was  onto  a  broken  bank,  and  wasn't  wuth  the  price  of  a  glass 
of  new  gin.  It  will  be  thus  seen  that  my  fust  ancestor  had  a 
commercial  mind. 

My  ancestors  has  all  bin  helthy  people,  tho'  their  pursoots  in 
life  has  bin  vari's. 

******* 
*  *  *  *  *  *  * 


XI. 
A  FRAGMENT. 

[Among  the  papers,  letters,  and  miscellanea  left  on  the  table  of  poor 
Ward  was  found  the  fragment  which  follows.  Diligent  search  failed  to 
discover  any  beginning  or  end  to  it.  The  probability  is  that  it  consists 
of  part  of  a  paper  intended  to  describe  a  comic  trip  round  England.  To 
write  a  comic  itinerary  of  an  English  tour  was  one  of  the  author's  fa- 
vourite ideas ;  and  another  favourite  one  was  to  travel  on  the  Continent 
and  compile  a  comic  Murray's,  Guide.  No  interest  attaches  to  this  mere 
scrap  other  than  that  it  exemplifies  what  the  writer  would  have  attempt- 
ed had  his  life  been  longer.] 

******* 


AT  North  Berwick  there  was  a  maniacal  stampede  toward  the 
little  house  by  the  railside,  where  they  sell  such  immense  quan- 


A  FRAGMENT.  347 

titles  of  sponge-cake,  which  is  very  sweet  and  very  yellow,  but 
which  lies  rather  more  heavily  on  the  stomach  than  raw  turnips, 
as  I  ascertained  one  day  from  actual  experience.  This  is  not 
stated  because  I  have  any  spite  against  this  little  house  by  the 
railside.  Their  mince-pies  are  nobly  made,  and  their  apple-pies 
are  unsurpassed.  Some  years  ago  there  used  to  be  a  very  pretty 
girl  at  this  house,  and  one  day,  while  I  was  struggling  rapidly 
with  a  piece  of  mince-pie,  I  was  so  unfortunate  as  to  wink 
slightly  at  her.  The  rash  act  was  discovered  by  a  yellow-haired 
party,  who  stated  that  she  was  to  be  his  wife  ere  long,  and  that 
he  " expected"  he  could  lick  any  party  who  winked  at  her.  A 
cursory  examination  of  his  frame  convinced  me  that  he  could 
lick  me  with  disgustin  ease,  so  I  told  him  it  was  a  complaint  of 
the  eyes.  "  They  are  both  so,"  I  added,  "  and  they  have  been 
so  from  infancy's  hour.  See  here  !  "  And  I  commenced  winking 
in  a  frightful  manner.  I  escaped,  but  it  was  inconvenient  for 
me  for  some  time  afterwards,  because  whenever  I  passed  over 
the  road  I  naturally  visited  the  refreshment  house,  and  was 
compelled  to  wink  in  a  manner  which  took  away  the  appetites 
of  other  travellers,  and  one  day  caused  a  very  old  lady  to  state, 
with  her  mouth  full  of  sponge-cake,  that  she  had  cripples  and 
drunkards  in  her  family,  but,  thanks  to  the  heavens  above,  no 
idiots  without  any  control  over  their  eyes,  looking  sternly  at 
me  as  she  spoke. 

That  was  years  ago.     Besides,  the  wink  was  a  pure  accident. 
I  trust  that  my  unblemished  character — but  I  will  not  detain 

you  further  with  this  sad  affair. 

******* 

ARTEMUS  WARD. 


THE  END. 


University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


The  Theodore  H.  Koundakjian 

Collection 
of  American  Humor 


r 


